


Time Will Tell

by RockinHeaven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-12-15 18:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 72,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11811993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockinHeaven/pseuds/RockinHeaven
Summary: He just wanted to go out with his aunt to catch a movie. In a matter of hours Peter finds himself in the hospital with his aunt in a coma. Since there is no one there to take care of him, he is put into the system. As everything gets too much, Peter eventually finds his way out on the streets, running from his problems.After a long struggle Tony finally finds the elusive teenager, taking him in to care for him. That's the least he can do. Next to finding a cure for May, so that Peter does not loose his last living relative.Set a few weeks after Homecoming





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't done this in like ten years.   
> Feel free to point out any grammar mistakes as I didn't beta it.  
> Some things might look a little rushed as I basically wrote most of it down in two weeks.  
> I have a good twenty chapters ready to upload, still no end in sight, so let me know what you think!

Chapter One

 

For four months life was good. Gloriously good. Peter kept on being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. He was good in school and Aunt May had slowly come to accepting his afternoon activities. Hell, he even had grown closer to Michelle. Maybe his feelings for her were also changing, at least a little. He didn't mind her hanging around at his and Ned's lunch table anymore.   
Overall life was good to Peter. Almost too good to be true.  
Now he was sitting in a cold sterile waiting room, thinking about all the good things he had had in the last four months. A vain attempt to keep the bad thoughts out. Everything would be fine. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Besides everything that had gone already. The events of just a few hours ago were all jumbled in Peter's mind, he simply couldn't get them straight.   
They had been getting ready to watch a movie. There was blood on his hands. May was buying popcorn. Tires screeching. They had sat in the full movie theater, sharing popcorn and drinks. A loud noise, a thud. More blood. Laughing about the movie. An Ambulance. People talking, talking over his head, shouting things at each other. After that all noise had turned to silence. Aunt May had laid there, she had been awake, looking at him. She couldn't talk, a tube in her mouth kept her from doing it. But she had held Peter's hand on the ride to the hospital, had squeezed it reassuringly. Everything would be fine, is what she would have wanted to say.   
The minutes ticked by and Peter's mind went into a loop. Over and over again he repeated to himself that nothing could possibly go wrong. He lived through the accident again, every time he did it got even more jumbled up.   
The hands of the clock were slowly inching towards midnight, then one, two.  
A nurse approached him at 2:34.  
Peter knew, because he had been staring at the clock for the last two ours, not registering anything. “Mr Parker?”, she asked politely, likely used to people being deep in their thoughts.  
“Yes?” It took Peter a moment to filter her voice through the silence.  
“I'm so very sorry my dear.”   
With those words his hope was crushed. The air leaving his lungs, leaving him breathless, a tight feeling in his chest.   
“W-What do you mean?” His words stumbled out of his mouth in a haste to escape.  
“Your Aunt- there were complications and she fell into a coma, Peter. Is there anyone we can call for you?”, the nurse sounded kind. She wanted to help. How could she though?  
“No. No one.”  
“Well, would you like to see her?”  
Yes. Yes. But not like this. Peter wanted to see his aunt alive and well, her hair untidy, a smile playing on her lips. 

And somehow he ended up in a room, cold and sterile. And there was his Aunt May hooked up to some machines Peter could probably name and dissect, put not with his mind solely focused on the prone body of his aunt. Who looked pale and small admits all the machines, whose face was covered by an oxygen mask, her arm hooked up to an IV. She didn't look like his aunt, this woman. Peter stood there and looked at her, wanting to move his feet towards her, but unable to. His legs were heavy, his whole body felt heavy.   
“Aunt May?”, a whisper escaped his lips. She didn't reply. The sound of her laughter during the movie rang through his memory. The woman lying there couldn't possibly be his Aunt May. With great effort Peter finally got moving towards the woman, hope blooming in his chest that he wouldn't see his aunt there but some one else. Some one else who was in a coma. A misunderstanding. May had to be in a different ward, asleep and on the mend.  
Peter stopped a few feet from the bed.   
“No.”  
“NO!”, the words broke out of him followed by a sob. He lifted the sheet to get a hold of May's hand, cold and limp in his own. Peter didn't know what happened next, somehow he felt himself getting detached from his own body as if he was standing above himself, looking down. He was crying, tears streaming down his face. He was screaming for his aunt, over and over again. A feeling of loss spread in his body, numbing everything beside the pain of losing her.   
What had happened?   
Peter's thoughts jumbled in his head, his feelings breaking to the forefront.  
Why had it happened?

 

Peter had forgotten her name as soon as she had spoken it. Her clothes were non descriptive, her hair pulled back in a bun. She looked strict, her mouth was moving but no sound reached his ears. How could there be any sound in a world where is aunt might never laugh again?  
How could there be anything in a world without his aunt up and about?  
The woman wrote something down on her clipboard. She looked back up at Peter and said something. In front of his eyes, the woman's face got blurry, slowly melting into the yellow background of whatever room they currently were in. How had he gotten here? Peter couldn't remember.

“He has had quite a shock. Maybe we should admit him at least for today. See if there are any relatives who could pick him up?”, the nurse suggested, her kind brown eyes were fixed on Peter who was sitting at the table, his whole being distant. Detached.  
“You see Nurse Miller that won't be possible. As long as nothing is physically wrong with him, he should be put in a foster home as soon as possible. Otherwise he will be put in a group home. There is no time to dawdle and wait for anyone to spring up and claim him. I will have arranged something for him within the hour”, the social worker, whom Peter had tuned out, stated. She was as strict as she looked. Little did Peter know what she had in store for him.

 

He wasn't thirsty, nor was he hungry. Peter simply felt empty. He no longer felt like he was floating over himself, watching himself. Instead he felt himself rooted to his body, to the spot were he was right now. The woman who had talked to him, had been a social worker. Of course that was what would happen next. Peter had no one left, no family anywhere. Of course a social worker would take his case up. Alas, he didn't know what would happen next. Would he be send to a live with another family, would they allow him to go back home? There was no home anymore, the thought came upon him suddenly. Home had been where his family had been. Now he was alone, truly alone. What was he supposed to do? What would Aunt May say in this situation? Peter didn't really remember what she had said when Uncle Ben had died. The memory of his death was a little fuzzy around the edges, only the most important things having stuck to Peter's memory.   
Shouldn't he talk to a doctor? Maybe his aunt would wake up soon. So far no other medical personal beside the nurse had come up to him. Shouldn't they at least tell him what Aunt May's chances were? With luck, she might wake up in a few days. There was no need for him to go to some other family if his aunt would be up and about soon.  
The idea got stuck in his head.  
Despite his heavy body, Peter stood up to go and find the social worker. Alas she was quicker than he had been.  
“Hello Peter”, she said in greeting, clipboard held tightly under her arm. “This is Mr Morrison, he will be your foster parent from now on.”  
Oh no.

 

Peter had had no choice. He had tried to argue with the social worker, but she hadn't listened. Instead she brought him and Mr Morrison -call me Jack- outside to a waiting car. Without another word, Peter had practically been pushed into the car and been told to buckle up. They had driven for about half an hour, Peter stunned speechless. What was happening to him right now?

The Morrison's lived in a two bedroom flat in another part of Queens. There was another foster kid there, Jamal. They would be sharing a room for the time being. Jamal was sixteen and bulky from playing football had his high school, the same high school Peter would now attend. The Morrisons didn't want him to commute. Although forty or so minutes was no commuting in Peter's book, he couldn't find the words to put up a fight. To be honest, all he wanted to do was lie down in his bed, bury under his blanket and sleep this nightmare of a night away. If he could turn back time he would have never gone out to see this movie with his aunt. They could have ordered pizza, stayed in and watched some talkshow. Yeah, that sounded nice. But now, now. . .   
Peter couldn't stop seeing Aunt May in the hospital bed, her pale face and all the machines. The beeping and humming. The coldness and disinfectant smell.   
He was in bed now, his new bed, in his new room he shared with Jamal who was getting ready for school and had only thrown him a passing glance.  
The blanket was scratchy and smelt off. The street outside was too loud. Peter could hear the bacon sizzling on the stove in the kitchen. Not his kitchen. Not his blanket. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands to his ears and hoped he could shut the whole world out.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
A week later.

It took him nearly an hour to get to the hospital, but Peter didn't care. He would leave class, not even writing down the homework assignment, and run straight to the next train station. From there he would take whatever train came first, whatever train got him closer to his still comatose aunt. He had had a talk with the doctors now, it wasn't looking good, but it also wasn't looking bad. If she was lucky, May would wake up again. Some time in the future. It could be days, or weeks, or months, or years. But there was a slight chance she would wake up again. The chance of her never waking up was slightly bigger, a few percent. These few percents made Peter shut down again. He had gotten pretty good at that lately. Whenever he shut down, no sound could make its way toward him, there was only silence.   
If Peter was honest, he liked it that way.   
When he shut out every noise, he could concentrate on the feel of May's lifeless hand in his. He could imagine her chapped lips quirking upwards in a smile, her closed eyes open and crinkling at the corner. He liked it that way.   
He laid out what he wanted to say to his aunt in his head. Went through it over and over again, before he started talking to her. She wasn't alone in her ICU room, there were other comatose patients, but he didn't care talking in front of them. Peter couldn't hear himself talk, shut down as he was, but he knew what he was saying.   
“The new school is too easy for me.”  
“I don't really like the teachers.”  
“There was meatloaf for lunch again.”  
All the random things he could talk about with her. But never anything private. Peter never told Aunt May about being bullied, about failing his classes – he never did any homework – or about his lack of appetite. He ate breakfast at the Morrison's under watchful eyes, but never bothered for anything else.  
Day after day he would go to the hospital to sit with his aunt, when visiting hours were over he would go on patrol. Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man. The visits and his patrol gave him purpose, the patrols especially made him feel at least something as if the world hadn't closed itself off to him. 

“Meatloaf again today. I wonder if they serve it every two days. There recipes are way worse than yours. Can't wait to go to that new Thai place with you. But I don't think you will get sticky rice pudding on the house there”, Peter said, his voice sounding cheery, carefree.   
“I'm sorry to interrupt Peter, but you have already stayed too long. I'm afraid you have to leave now, before both of us get in trouble. Peter?”, Nurse Miller was standing behind Peter. She was there most of the time when he came in to visit his aunt. She had been there when his aunt had been admitted first and now saw the way Peter was declining. She still vividly remembered when he had come in, blood splattered on his clothes and face, his hands bloody. He had been pale then, but nothing compared to the paleness he now sported. The dark bags under his eyes seemed to get heavier every time she saw him, his cheeks looked sunken in. Overall Peter looked sick, like someone who was in mourning already. And she knew with all her experience what mourning looked like and that it could eat you up from the inside until there was nothing left of you.  
Nurse Miller hesitantly approached Peter, she also knew that he was lost in his own world again, not hearing her. She carefully put a hand on his shoulder, felt him startled underneath her. When he turned around to face her he looked worse than he had the day before. His eyes were red-rimmed and had that haunted look. He was also sporting a split lip.  
“Oh Peter, what happened to your face?”, she asked him kindly, concerned.  
Peter didn't answer. He threw a look at the clock on the wall, lent forward to place kiss on his aunt's forehead and grabbed his backpack on the way out. Nurse Miller's gaze followed him outside of the room, watching the careful steps he took, the way his shoulders hunched.   
Nurse Miller knew that May Parker might never wake up again, that the chances right now spoke against it. But she couldn't bear the thought of this teenage boy losing his last remaining family member, of possibly losing himself if his aunt should day. Because one thing was sure for her, if worst came to worst, Peter would be eaten up from the inside. There would be nothing left of him.

 

The key smoothly went into the lock.   
The feeling felt wrong. Wasn't the key suppose to put up a fight? Wasn't it supposed to get stuck in revenge upon finally fitting into the lock? Wasn't the kitchen supposed to be white and blue and not a dark brown? Wasn't his room supposed to be small and a little cramped, but full of his stuff?   
Everything was wrong here. The kitchen was a separate room, being used for extensive cooking by Mrs Morrison. Cooking that looked great and tasted like sawdust to Peter. Then there was his room, his new room he shared with Jamal. It was a little bigger, and definitely not cramped with Peter's stuff. For now his stuff lay undisturbed in his old room. Aunt May had paid the rent in advance, when the time was up and she still hadn't. . . Peter shook the thought away. His aunt would wake up again. She had to. He couldn't keep spending his nights, buried underneath his blanket, listening to Jamal's soft breathing, his occasional mumbling in sleep. And when-if he fell asleep, Peter saw his aunt in the car crash, the blood on his hands warm and sticky. In his dreams Peter would sit on the street, his aunt lying next to him, bleeding from God knows where and Peter would be there, trying to stop the bleeding. His hands pushing on whatever wounds she had, the blood would flow past his fingers, down to the gray pavement. She would bleed out under him. Her body would bleed and bleed and bleed. And in the end Peter was sitting there on the sidewalk, a white sheet turning crimson covering his aunt and he would stare at the sticky blood on his hands. Sticky and warm and real. He would wake up, his hands clammy, out of breath.   
Jamal never seemed to notice, never seemed to care.  
Peter would turn around in bed so he was facing the wall, he would shuffle as close to the wall as he could and pull the blanket over his head. Then he shut everything out. Until there was only the scratchy feeling of the blanket on his skin, the clammy air underneath it and the silent rushing noise in his ears. Peter tried not to care, tried to care less and every time he succeeded a little more.

Another Tuesday, another day of school, of sitting in class and not giving a damn.  
Mrs Morrison was serving breakfast, eggs and toast, just like she did every morning. She was a librarian and always wore a skirt and blouse, even on Sundays. Mr Morrison was working at a small company, some kind of office job. Peter couldn't remember.   
He was reading the newspaper while she was getting the breakfast ready. Jamal was already tucking in. It was a quiet morning, something Peter had gotten used to already. He chewed on his toast, taking forever to chew every single little bite of it. A forkful of eggs. The taste of sawdust in his mouth. Chew, swallow. Chew, swallow. Repeat until you're finished. Jamal was talking about football practice, about an upcoming game. Mr Morrison was listening intently, having put his newspaper down.  
“How about you son?”, he turned to Peter. For once Peter was there, the noise around him tuned out, but quickly back on as he was addressed. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to Mr Morrison. Had he ever talked to him at all? What had been the question again?  
“How are your after school activities going?”, Mr Morrison repeated his question, no doubt having seen the questioning look on Peter's face.  
“Good”, was all Peter said. There were no afterschool activities beside visiting his aunt at the hospital and going on patrol, both things the Morrisons didn't know about.  
“Yeah, what'cha doing anyways?”, Jamal asked. Stupid Jamal. Stupid, stupid Jamal.  
“Your social worker said something about workshop?”, Mrs Morrison jumped in. Peter was chewing his bottom lip. What should he say? Could he be honest with these people at least regarding his visits to the hospital?  
“I-uh. . . “, he trailed off unsure.  
Every face was turned in his direction, all gazes on him. He couldn't do it. Peter jumped out of his chair and practically ran outside, his backpack slung over his shoulder from where he had picked it up next to the door. He couldn't do this anymore, any of this. His chest felt tight. Instead of going towards the train station, Peter started walking down the street. It was early, but rush-hour was already starting, the noise growing around him, the smell of exhaust ever present. 

Of course he would end up at the hospital again. Where else could he go? Peter sank down into his chair and took a hold of Aunt May's hand. She looked like she was sleeping, her face smooth, no wrinkles showing. He had combed her hair himself, given her a quick sponge bath only her face and arms. Her face was free of any wounds now, everything had healed already. Still there was the oxygen mask on her face and the IV in her arms. Underneath the gown she wore, still lay some bandages from the operation she had had. But overall Peter thought she looked better, healthier. And if she was getting better, didn't that mean she would wake up soon?

 

Peter felt too tired to go on his usual neighbourhood patrol today.   
He knew as soon as he got back to the Morrison's he would most likely get an earful, after all he had skipped school today. Alas upon entering the flat, the key still fitting smoothly into the lock, he was stopped dead on his feet upon entering the living room. Peter had expected the Morrisons sitting primly on their couch, ready to scold and tell him off. He hadn't expected to find Mrs Morrison and one Tony Stark in there. Stopping, he could feel his chin fall down.   
“Hey kid”, Tony greeted him casually, he was still wearing his sunglasses. Despite being inside and it being nearly dark out there. December was creeping up after all.  
“I will leave you two alone”, Mrs Morrison said and stood up from the beige sofa that was overloaded with frilly pillows.  
For a second, Peter stood there, flabbergasted and rooted to the ground. Then he felt something wash over him, his spidersense waking up for the first time in a long while. Flee. Danger. And flee he did. Nearly stumbling over his own two feet, then his backpack lying in the hallway, Peter fled out of the warm safety of the flat. He couldn't be in there, he couldn't face Tony Stark. What was he even doing there? Peter hadn't contacted either him nor Happy, hadn't told anyone really about what had happened. He had send a text to Ned, had gotten a trizillion replies, but had never texted back. If he couldn't even text somebody then how was he supposed to talk to them. He ran up the stairs onto the roof of the building within a minute he had swung to the next building across the street. And then he kept going, never looking back.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Week Four.

The air was frosty and Peter was shivering in his thin jacket.   
His stomach was grumbling but he had no money left, everything had been spend on food already. The only thing he could do right now was try to earn some money. There had to be a way for him to get some. Peter had to be careful though, if he didn't keep his hood up, then the cities surveillance system might film him and who knew if Tony Stark wasn't keeping an eye out for him that way. After having fled the Morrison's flat, Peter had made his way out into the streets. He hadn't stuck to Queens, instead choosing to move a bit further to Williamsburg. As he hadn't felt safe there, he had simply kept on going, somehow ending up in Hell's Kitchen. Even if it was closer to the Stark Tower, Peter felt safer in this distant neighbourhood he had never even visited before. The streets looked different here, somehow more run down than the ones in Queens.   
People paid him no mind when he walked past them, obviously used to seeing teenagers living out on the streets. Peter hadn't visited his aunt in over a week. Once he had made his way to the hospital, had even snuck in from a back entrance, but then he had encountered a security guard stationed in front of his Aunt's room. A security guard who wore the emblem of the Stark company on his black jacket. Peter had turned around then, sending up a silent prayer that his aunt wouldn't be mad at him.  
Everything was too much for him.   
The accident, the moving, the new school. He simply couldn't handle Tony Stark on top of it. Peter's mind was still going haywire, his thoughts running around his head, zigzagging and make his head ache. He just wanted his aunt to be well again, he wanted to be back at home on the couch watching a movie with Ned, going to decathlon practice with MJ. But he couldn't have that. He couldn't.   
The familiar pain was building up behind his eyes again, it was too early however to shut himself off. Peter had to go and find some money somewhere. Although his appetite was lacking, he knew he needed to keep his strength up. He had left his Spider-Man suit at the Morrison's, tucked away safely in the backpack he had also left there upon fleeing from Tony Stark.  
His clothes were dirty and smelled. Wearing the same underwear for over a week was an unpleasant experience for Peter and although he tried to push it from his mind, it was one of those silly things that kept being stuck in your head and made you think about it over and over again.  
Alright, Peter thought, he could do this.   
Finally having steeled himself, he got up from his sleeping place behind a dumpster, brushed down his dirty clothing and made his way out on the streets. There were place one could openly beg, mostly homeless guys sitting around with cardboard signs. Whenever he got closer to these guys, they would throw him a dirty look and if no one was around to overhear them, they would openly threaten him. To be honest, Peter was afraid. No longer only for his aunt, but for himself as well. What if something happened to him out here? Who would take care of May then? Maybe fleeing out here hadn't been such a good idea after all. . . but what had he been supposed to do? Peter's mind was in distressed teenager mode, there was no way he was able to think about the easy way out.   
Stopping at a street corner, Peter watched a dark haired woman stumbling out of a bar. It was not that early in the morning. Alas she was clearly intoxicated. She wasn't walking straight and teetered very close to the street as she was trying to wrap a scarf around her throat. Peter could see her wallet fall out of her jacket and made his way across the street to pick it up.  
“Excuse me”, he said as he was trying to keep up with the woman. Despite being intoxicated and unable to walk straight, she was still keeping up a fast pace.  
“Excuse me, Ma'am?!”, Peter tried once more, jogging to keep up with the woman.  
“What?”, she said, turning around to face him. Her breath smelled of alcohol, the smell of it closing the distance between Peter and her. The woman's eyes were hard, steely.  
“You lost your wallet”, Peter answered her politely and held the wallet out for her to take.  
“You took any of it?!”, she asked him roughly while snatching up her wallet.  
“No, Ma'am.”  
She threw him a look, her body weaving as she checked her wallet for any missing money.  
“Hell Kid, stay in school”, she told him, her voice hard and handed him a five dollar note. Peter couldn't even protest when she pushed the money in his hand. The woman went on her way, not throwing him another look as she made her way down the street. Leaving Peter with the note pressed into his hand, mouth agape.

 

There was a store of a fastfood chain down the street. It was a little dinky, but all Peter wanted was a hot drink and maybe later something to eat. For now he just savoured the warm cup of coffee in his hands, the taste not so much, but the heat did wonders to his cold fingers. There was a flatscreen TV on, which seemed totally out of place here, showing some news report. Peter stared at the screen, tuning out the talk about politics and sports, then they showed a picture of Spider-Man. The news ticker spouted the headline “No more sights of Spider-Man in Queens. Vigilante in retirement?”. Quickly Peter avoided his eyes, he couldn't bear to hear or see whatever was they were going to say about him, show about him. He could still vividly remember the first time he had been on the news and they had shown a picture of him exiting a portable toilet, toilet paper stuck to his foot. It wasn't even that far ago, but it still felt like a lifetime to him. His body and mind were weary now, tired of getting up in the morning. With his visits to May, the Spider-Man patrols, Peter felt like life was slowly crumbling away, leaving him nothing to live for.   
Peter took another sip of the coffee, hoping to calm himself down with it. The clock on the wall showed only eleven a.m. Not even half of his day had gone past and Peter felt like going back to his sleeping place behind the dumpster to sleep. What if he went to sleep and never woke up again? Would anyone miss him? Aunt May would most likely never wake up again and what was he to do without her? The thoughts came rushing into his head, goosebumps erupting on his skin. Peter shook his head quickly, trying to chase the thoughts away. How could he think like that? If he only had his suit back, he could be doing good out there, helping people! But without his suit. . .  
The door to the store banged open, startling him from his thoughts.   
Three guys came inside, sporting black ski mask. They stepped inside, one of the barring the door, they other two drawing guns. Peter slid down under the table. His neck was prickling, his spidersense washing over him.  
“Your money!”, one of the guys shouted, waving his gun around.  
The cashiers looked scared, one of them burst into tears.  
“YOUR MONEY!”, the guy shouted again, louder.  
One of the cashiers started fumbling with the register. The other one breaking out into hysterics. Peter was the only customer. But he felt helpless. He didn't have any webshooters, he only had his strength and even that was waning. Without his suit, Peter suddenly felt a flashback to the time Tony had taken his suit away after the incident with the ferry. Tony's words still rang through his head, loud and clear. Peter had thought he didn't need his suit to help and protect people. Then there had been the accident, he hadn't had his suit then. Might his aunt not be in a coma if he had had back then?  
A shot was fired, drawing Peter from his thoughts.  
The second guy had grown impatient and shot a hole in the ceiling. Tiny white flakes were raining down on his black hoodie.   
The cashier handed over the money, it wasn't much considering the slow traffic that day. Another shot was fired, but Peter couldn't see where. His eyes were closed, hands over his ears. He couldn't do this, he couldn't do this.  
He took in a shuddering breath, then another, and another.  
Five minutes passed.  
Peter didn't hear the sirens outside, didn't hear people entering the store. Until someone softly put their hand on his shoulder.  
“Are you alright?”  
Startled, Peter opened his eyes.  
A blonde police woman was sitting in front of him, crouching really. She smiled reassuringly at him.  
“What's your name?”, she asked kindly.  
“Peter”, Peter replied without thinking. Maybe telling this police woman his name wasn't such a good idea. What if someone was checking the police records to find him? That someone being Happy.  
“Alright, Peter. Are you hurt? Can you get up for me?”  
Peter nodded in consent, the police woman backing off to let him crawl out from underneath the table.   
There were paramedics inside the store. One of the cashiers had been shot, blood all over the floor. The other one was sitting on the floor, blanket wrapped tightly around her shaking body. She was crying and howling, completely insensible.   
“So Peter, can you tell me what happened?” the police woman asked, a notebook already in her hands to take notes.  
“Uh these g-guys came in. Three of them, all wearing black skimasks. They- uh, they wanted the m-money out of the register.”  
“Okay, good. Can you remember anything about the guys beside their black clothing? Hair maybe or shoes?”  
Peter shook his head in a negative.  
“Alright. Good. How about we chat some more at the station? Maybe you will remember some more details then.” The police woman made to grab his shoulder, but Peter quickly ducked away from her hand.  
“I-I would rather not”, he says, knowing that going to a police station right now would definitely get him into trouble.  
“Peter. I do think it's best for you to come along now.” The woman made to grab him again and before he knew it, Peter had struck out in what to him was self-defense. His spidersense tingling and pushing his body to fight back from whatever he was afraid of.  
And that is how Peter landed at a police station, cuffed to a table in an interrogation room.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Peter was thirsty, his stomach grumbling lowly.   
For once he was hungry. Did it have to be now?, he thought exasperated.  
There was no way he would get out of here any time soon. He had shoved a police officer. Not with his full power behind it, but how could he have done that? What was wrong with him? His legs wouldn't stop moving due to nervousness. Peter knew he was in trouble, his spidersense was prickling in his neck, his body taut. Had he not been cuffed to the table, he would be pacing the room now, maybe even crawling along the walls. Safety mechanism: climb the wall and huddle in a corner. He sometimes had done that back at home when he had woken up from a nightmare, his chest still heaving and sweat beading his forehead. A corner near the ceiling was a safe haven for him, one he couldn't go to at the Morrison's nor out on the streets. Peter felt the sweat run down his forehead now, felt his lungs clench. His eyes fixed on the corner farthest from the door. That corner would be safe. Safe. Safe. Safe. His mind repeated over and over.  
Peter didn't hear the door opening, didn't hear someone stepping in. Only the small blast of fresh air made him realize that the door had been opened at all. He didn't dare turn around.  
“Peter Parker?”, a voice behind him asked. The prickling in his neck lessened.   
Slowly, Peter turned around. A guy in a smart, but worn suit stood in the door. His hand was still around the doorhandle, the other one held a briefcase and a stick. The guy wore sunglasses. The guy had a stick. Blind, the word floated in Peter's mind.  
“Peter Parker?”, the man asked again. Of course he couldn't see him, couldn't see that Peter was sitting right there cuffed to the table.  
“That's me”, he replied, his voice sounding thin in his ears. He sounded out of breath.  
“My name is Matthew Murdock, I'm your lawyer.” The man closed the door behind him and made his way over to the table. There was another chair placed at the table and he settled down on it. His briefcase finding a place on top of the table, his stick propped up on the edge of it.  
“I'm working pro bono. A friend of mine called and asked if I would mind coming in for you. Officer Russo wrote in her report that you were on a crime scene and attacked an officer, is that correct?”, the lawyer's voice was calm, his hands placed in front of him. Peter noticed the bruised knuckle on his left hand.  
“Y-Yes. I-I mean no. No, it's not true.”  
A raised eyebrow from the lawyer.  
“Care to elaborate which part is true and which one is not?”, his voice was kind, patient. He seemed to be used to being here, the stifling atmosphere of the room didn't seem to affect him at all. Unlike Peter who felt the walls coming closer with every breath. His eyes darted quickly to the corner near the ceiling again, before fixing his attention back to the lawyer in front of him.  
“I- I was at this fast food place, drinking a coffee, warming up. Then these three men came in. Uhm, one was blocking the door and the other two wanted the money out of the register. I was h-hiding beneath the table. S-Someone was shot.”  
Peter tried to put his head in his hands, the cuffs however made the movement hard to do. They were too short for him to do it. The clanking attracted the lawyer's attention, his head cocked to the side.  
“Are you cuffed?”, he asked, the tone of his voice changing slightly.  
“Y-Yes sir.”  
For a moment the lawyer sat quietly, his head still cocked, as if he was thinking about something. Then he continued with his questioning.  
“What happened afterwards? Officer Russo stated you forcefully pushed her away for no reason?”  
“I- I didn't mean to! I'm really sorry! I just. . . I just didn't want to come here. There are. . . “ Peter stops himself before he can reveal to much. Alas the lawyer picks right up where he left off.  
“Are you in trouble?”, his voice is kind, calm. For the first time in a long time Peter feels like he can trust somebody.  
“Kind of”, Peter mumbles.   
“Shoving a police officer is a serious offense.”  
“I'm really sorry! I really am! I tried apologizing, but they put me in here and. . . and. . . “, Peter gets panicky again. What if the lawyer doesn't believe him? The police officers wouldn't listen to him at all. He tried apologizing but they had cuffed him and put him in a police car with another officer before driving him to the station where he had been put into this room. The air seemed to grow thin around him, making it hard to breath.  
“I believe you”, the lawyer said finally. “Let me see what I can do.”

 

They took a taxi to wherever Mr Murdock lived.   
Peter was rubbing his wrists absentmindedly, there were small chafings where the cuffs had been to tight around his wrists, the skin turning red and angry. There was quiet in the taxi until it pulled up at the address Mr Murdock had given the driver. The lawyer paid the fare and exited the taxi, holding the door open for Peter to follow him. If Peter had been anybody else than himself, then he would have taken the chance and made his escape. Alas he wasn't. His conscience was nagging at him already. Mr Murdock had paid his bail, he was taking him to his place, he had paid for the taxi to get there. So instead of fleeing like any other kid in his situation might do, he gets out of the car and mumbles a quiet “Thank you”.   
Mr Murdock leads him up to his apartment, letting him step in first. The hallway is dark, but Peter quickly turns on the light switch – not that Mr Murdock needed any light – and finds himself in a bare hallway. The lamp dangling from the ceiling is literally just a light bulb, the floor is dark, the walls greyish. Mr Murdock leads the way into the living room/ kitchen.  
“Wait here, I will get you some clothes and then you can take a shower.” His voice sounds kind, but Peter knows what he is not saying. You smell.  
While the lawyer is gone, Peter takes a slow look around. There is not much in the apartment to look at. A few pieces of furniture but literally no knick-knacks at all, nothing that makes the room look like it is actually lived in. A giant neon sign illuminates the whole room, the flickering light showing some kind of advertising for an airline.  
“I'm not sure these will fit, but it's better than what you're wearing.” Mr Murdock softly comes back into the living room, his shoes and socks now gone. His bare feet don't make any noise on the dark wooden floor.  
“T-Thank you sir”, Peter mumbles and takes the folded clothing that is held out for him. Mr Murdock points in the direction of the bathroom and Peter nearly stumbles over his own feet in his haste to get there. He seriously needs to pee. At first he is kind of embarrassed to use the toilet in a stranger's house, but what could he possibly do against it. Holding it in is not an option. It takes him a few moments to get his clothes off, afraid that somehow Mr Murdock turns out to be a pervert and comes into the bathroom. Peter knows that this is unlikely, partly because he has locked the door and pulled a cabinet before it.   
The water is hot on his face and Peter can't quite believe the dirt accumulating in the bottom of the shower. Holy hell, he must have smelled. 

There is food waiting for him in the kitchen.   
Mr Murdock is sitting on the couch, he has taken off his suit jacket and sunglasses. To Peter it looks like he is staring into space, but as he steps inside, Mr Murdock whips his head around to look at him. Not look at him, but more like look in his general direction.  
“I- uh thanks for the shower Mr Murdock.”  
“You're welcome. I've ordered some food if you're hungry. And then you will tell me what kind of trouble you are in”, the lawyer's voice is soft and kind, however his words still make a lump grow on Peter's throat. He is not ready to talk to anybody about. . . basically everything that is going on in his life right now.

 

It's dark outside already, winter making the days shorter.  
Peter is lying on the couch, blanket tucked around his shoulders.   
After having Chinese for lunch/dinner, Mr Murdock was ready to make him speak. Luckily for Peter, just then Mr Murdock phone had gone off. The lawyer had quickly vanished into his bedroom to take the call, leaving Peter alone in the living room. As he now also owed the man a dinner, Peter thought the least he could do was the clean up. He stacked the containers and chopsticks and threw them away. Then he went in search for a glass which was relatively easy to find as the kitchen cupboards were as good as empty. Peter was just about to fill the glass with water from the kitchen tab when Mr Murdock came back out of his bedroom.  
“I have some business to take care of. I want you to stay here tonight, so we can talk about the next steps.”  
“Okay”, Peter breathed in reply. His heart was starting to thrum in his chest. Mr Murdock went back into his bedroom to get dressed and emerged only a few minutes later back in his suit jacket, sunglasses firmly sitting on his nose.  
“I will see you later Peter.” He said it with such conviction that Peter knew that somehow that guy trusted him to not do anything stupid.  
Now four hours later the lawyer still hadn't come back and Peter felt himself getting unsettled. He should just leave now. If he left before the lawyer came back then he wouldn't have to talk about what was going on right now. But then he owed the man money, and gratitude and it was laying heavily on Peter's conscience to have to do this. He would be breaking a stranger's trust, he could make it up to him later, when everything was okay to him. Peter told himself that over and over as he carefully folded the blanket and put it over the back of the sofa were it belonged. He told himself the same thing as he was pulling on his dirty socks and scuffed trains. As he put on his jacket and scribbled a quick note to Mr Murdock, pushing the pencil in extra hard so that maybe the lawyer could read his message after all. Peter didn't know any Braille and hoped it would work that way. Then he slowly opened the window, closing it behind himself and climbed down the wall.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who have left me comments and kudos! Some of you gave me some helpful advice which I will be trying to implement.  
> I will update this daily - if I can - which means there will be about three more weeks of daily updates!  
> I'm thinking of adding a sequel to this directly at the end, let me know what you think about this!

Chapter Five

Tony

 

Three days without any messages from Peter. So far Happy hadn't complained about the lack of text messages or the lack of phone calls. Tony had been back after nearly three weeks abroad and had given Happy leave so the man could go on a nice spa vacation he sorely needed. Now Tony was waiting for his daily updates of Spider-Man. However there were no messages, Happy hadn't received any messages in a while, but hadn't said anything. Tony was starting to get seriously worried. The move upstate after the little hitch with vulture had been executed smoothly. There was now a new Avengers facility for him to stay at, a new lab to work on his Ironman suit. He couldn't enjoy any of these things now, his thoughts returning to Peter over and over again. If he had been hurt the AI in his suit would let him know. Tony pulled up the recorded footage of the Spider-suit from the last few days. The last time anything had been recorded had been on Friday. Make that four days without any messages. Tony's forehead creased in thought, if something had happened surely it would be over the news? F.R.I.D.A.Y would have notified him. She was on 'Peter Alert' after all.

The next thing Tony did was look for Peter's phone.

Nothing. Which meant he hadn't lost it somewhere but it was most likely broken beyond repair. After Peter had destroyed the old tracker in his suit, Tony had put in a new one which only worked if the suit was in motion. Another dead end on that side. The suit was turned off, had been since Friday.

It all came back to Friday.

Worry was nagging at him now, somehow he felt responsible for the kid, having him pulled into all of this to begin with. Abandoning his pet project – which he hadn't touched for an hour or so anyway – Tony made his way outside. Since Happy was away on vacation, Tony was left without a driver, alas Tony could for once drive himself. Choosing one of his faster cars, he made his way towards Queens.

 

No one responded to his knocks on the door. When he pressed an ear to the door, he couldn't hear anything behind it.

“May I help you?”

Tony startled away from the door, turning around to face an elderly lady. She looked suspiciously at him, her mouth set in a disapproving frown.

“I was looking for the Parkers. But no one seems to be at home. Do you know when they will be back?”, he tried to keep his voice earnest, lest the woman think he was a burglar or someone with bad intentions.

“Oh, you haven't heard then?”

“Heard what?”

“About the accident!”

Tony's thoughts began racing in his head. Accident. What accident?!

“Well, darling May is in hospital now and there was a social worker around for the boy, so there is nothing to worry about”, the old lady was saying cheerfully.

She was about to walk past Tony, when he quickly made a grab for her arm.

“What hospital?”, he only could get out.

“The one four blocks away, I forgot what it's called. Now let go off me you ruffian!”

Tony let go of the woman and jogged down the stairs, taking two at a time. There had been an accident, how come F.R.I.D.A.Y hadn't found anything about it, hadn't alerted him to it?

 

May was in a coma. She looked thin and frail in her hospital gown. It was after visiting hours, but Tony had flung his name around until he was allowed to see her. A doctor had been with her which was just what he needed.

“It's likely she will never recover from the trauma. It's a wonder that she has made it so far. If Mrs Parker's brain activity hasn't picked up in the next few weeks, we will have to talk about the options”, the doctor explained before going to his next patient. The options. Meaning keeping May hooked up to machines for some more time, maybe the rest of her life or turning the machines off. Letting her go. Tony sat down heavily in the chair pulled up to her bedside. A nurse had told him that Peter was here every day, she didn't exactly know where he was right now, but she had promised to check the records of the social worker who worked at the hospital. Tony thought that that didn't sound exactly legal, but he would take any help he could get. He had F.R.I.D.A.Y checking the news for any accidents that had happened about three weeks ago. Now he was running a different search on coma and brain trauma, possible ways of healing it.

Tony couldn't believe that something like this could have happened right under his nose. Why hadn't Happy checked up on Peter? After the whole Vulture incident that should have been one of his priorities. Alas Tony felt a wave of guilt sweeping over him. It was also his fault. He could have checked up on Peter himself. But he had been too busy with other things to do so. Peter was his responsibility, not Happy's. He had pulled Peter into all of this, had somehow wormed his way into the life of the teenager and his aunt and then. . . then he had just left them alone to fend for themselves. Tony was acting like his own father. And he hated that. He hadn't wanted to act like his father towards Peter, he had wanted to be a better role model. Some kind of father figure Peter could look up to, someone to talk to. Tony knew he had utterly failed.

He took May's hand in his own, the fingers were cold at the tips, her hand cool and limp in his own. How could it have come to this? He hadn't really met May, but she was a constant in Peter's life, she was important to him. God, Peter must be devastated, Tony thought.

“Mr Stark? I have found the file for you.”

The kind nurse from before stepped quietly into the room. Why she did so Tony didn't understand. All four patients in the room were in a coma after all and it was unlikely that she would wake any of them up.

“You only have a few minutes, I need to return this as soon as possible. When you are done reading it, meet me at the information desk.” She threw him a smile and pressed the file into his hands.

_Parker, Peter._

The handwriting was straight and clear.

Taking a deep breath Tony opened the file. He was only skim reading, the AI in his glasses scanning the text while he went through the few pages that were in the file. There was a report on the accident, a car crash. The driver had been speeding, had overlooked a red light. The guy was dead now. He had driven over another woman and then into May and Peter. Through sheer luck Peter seemed to have escaped without a scratch. May and the other woman had both been hit and had to be brought to the hospital. There was nothing in the report that implied how the other woman was doing now.

The next sheet was a quickly filled out form with Peter's information, name and address and such. Then came some paperwork signed by the social worker herself. The last page was the address of the couple who had taken Peter in as a foster child. Tony snapped the file shut and turned back to May.

He should have pushed harder two months ago. After May had found out that Peter was Spider-Man, Tony had felt safe asking her to sign a document of guardianship. He had told her about the dangers she was possibly in now if anyone should ever find out that Peter was Spider-Man. She would become a target herself then. And if worst came to worst, then Tony felt it was his obligation to take care of Peter. May however hadn't been thrilled by the paperwork, hadn't wanted to sign them. She still had them somewhere, having never given them back to Tony. Without her signature they were useless. He should have pushed harder, he should have made her sign the documents. Tony had felt safe back then, certain that nothing would go wrong and the papers should have just been a safety measure. But now. . . now he would have needed them.

Who knew if the people Peter now lived with could be trusted?

 

Tony didn't spend the night at the hospital, but in his new penthouse in Manhattan. He had bought it after he had sold the former Avengers Tower which was now back to being named Stark Tower. His penthouse was spacious and secluded. He had installed F.R.I.D.A.Y only a few weeks ago. There was enough room for him and a handful of guests, maybe Peter now if he should find him. The first thing Tony had done upon his return from the hospital was call his lawyer. It was already late at night, but Tony paid the man enough to wake him at this time of the day- or night. He told the lawyer to get guardianship over Peter as soon as possible, no matter what. Then he looked up doctors who specialised in comatose patients and traumatic brain injury. There was only a few of them, scattered over the States. Tony still wrote down their names and addresses. Tomorrow after he had found Peter, he would contact them. Hopefully one of them would be able to do something for May.

It was nearing two when Tony finally went to bed. His head full of things he still had to do.

 

He had talked to his lawyer all morning about the guardianship and that it might be impossible to arrange it so quickly. Tony had shouted at the man until he had made it happen, pulling strings and asking favours on all sides. It hadn't been easy, but Tony now held an official document that stated him as Peter's temporary guardian. Temporary had been all his lawyer could do for him. As long as May was still somewhat alive – Tony cringed at the thought – it could only be temporary.

It was early afternoon now, Peter would be getting back from school soon.

Tony had changed into one of his smart suits, even forgoing a simple t-shirt to put on a dress shirt. He had a copy of the document in his suit jacket and was prepared to take Peter back to the penthouse with him.

The Morrisons lived in a apartment building much like the one Peter had lived in before. The building was at the other end of Queens however, the streets looking a little less well kept. People were staring at his car, as he parked it in front of the building. The door downstairs was broken so he simply made his way up to the second floor. Despite being rundown outside, the inside of the building was clean. Tony stopped in front of the Morrison's apartment and simply knocked on the door. Someone had to be home at this time of the day, right?

After a few minutes the door was carefully opened by a middle aged woman. Her brown hair was combed back carefully into a braid. Pearl earrings adorned her ears, a pearl necklace around her neck, nearly hidden by the blouse she wore.

“Can I help you?”, she asked politely, but unwilling to open the door any further.

“Hello, my name is Tony Stark. I'm looking for Peter Parker.” Tony introduced himself, the woman's eyes widening when she heard his name.

“Well, you best come inside then.” She finally opened the door to let him in.

Leading him into the living room, she offered him a seat before asking if he wanted anything to drink. Tony sat down, but declined her offer of a drink. His watch showed that it was nearly five. Peter should be back from school soon. Mrs Morrison sat down opposite of Tony in a beige sofa overflowing with frilly pillows, her gaze fixed on him. Tony couldn't help but notice that she wore an ankle-length grey skirt, a monstrosity in his opinion. The woman kept staring at him, not saying a word and Tony could feel every second ticking by. He knew that visiting hours at the hospital ended at four thirty, Peter should be back any minute now.

All of a sudden he felt nervous. Tony hadn't felt nervous like this in a long time. What if Peter didn't want him to be his guardian? What if he was content at the Morrison's?

Tony didn't hear the door open, but he heard the soft padding of Peter's feet as he came into the living room.

“Hey kid”, Tony said, hoping to sound casual and not let his nerves show.

Peter just stared at him, mouth agape, shock clearly written on his face. He looked thinner, worn out, Tony noticed that first.

“I will leave you two alone”, Mrs Morrison said into the ensuing silence and stood up, leaving the two of them alone. Tony waited for Peter to say something now that the two of them were alone. Although he had prepared a speech in his head beforehand, Tony didn't know how to start.

And then Peter fled.

“Peter!”, Tony shouted after him, but it was too late. Peter had run out the front door and by the time Tony had reached it, he was long gone. Peter's backpack lay forgotten next to the door. Mrs Morrison hurried into the hallway, her face drawn.

“What happened?”

If only Tony knew.

 

“Boss, incoming file on Peter Parker”, F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice said. A few seconds later the Starkpad on his worktable lid up. Tony scrambled to get to it, opening the file immediately. It had been a week since Peter had fled from the Morrison's apartment. Tony hadn't been able so far to find him anywhere. No records of facial recognition in the area. He had called Happy to cancel his vacation and help him out with finding Peter, after telling him off for not taking better care of Peter to begin with. In the past week Tony had felt guilty with a lot of worry mixed in. While searching for Peter he had contacted some of the doctors, a few had flown in after he had offered them generous amounts of money, but all of them said there was no way for May to ever wake up again. Peter hadn't turned up at the hospital after his flight. Tony had stationed a security guard in front of May's room. Just in case Peter decided to show up. Then the security guard would be task with keeping a hold of Peter until he arrived.

And now there was this file.

Tony saw the logo of the NYPD first.

Then Peter's name.

He had been involved in a robbery, one person shot. After that. . . Peter had acted violently towards a police officer. That didn't sound like him at all. Usually Peter was a polite kid, he would never do something like this. The police had kept him at the station until a pro bono lawyer had been assigned to him and had somehow bailed him out.

The man's name was Matthew Murdock.

Tony would pay the man a visit immediately.

 

 

It was pitch dark outside, the December days short and cold.

Tony waited patiently for Murdock to let him in. After stating his name, the lawyer had buzzed the door open for him quickly. Now Tony stood in front of a closed door, waiting in the cool hallway. There was a slight chance Peter was still here. After all the lawyer had bailed him out. Knowing Peter, he would have gone with the man.

Finally the door was pulled open, revealing a man dressed in black slacks and a gray t-shirt. His feet were bear, his hair tousled as from sleep.

“Mr Stark”, he greeted Tony politely not meeting his eyes.

“Mr Murdock”, Tony gave back, stepping inside as the other man took a step back. The door was closed behind him and Mr Murdock started leading him down the hallway. They entered a spacious living room with only the minimum amount of furniture in it.

“Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

As coffee was the only acceptable thing to drink this late besides alcohol, Tony accepted the offer and sat down on the couch

Only then did he see the white stick leaning against the far wall. Adding two and two together, Tony realized that the lawyer simply hadn't met his eyes because he was blind, likely not knowing how tall Tony was.

“I'm sorry to say that Peter is no longer here. I left him, told him to stay put as I had to leave for work. When I returned he was gone. He left a note thought.” Tony turned around to see the blind lawyer wave a piece of paper.

Tony crossed the space between couch and kitchen counter to take the note from Mr Murdock.

 

_Mr Murdock,_

_Thank you for everything. I know I owe you a lot of money._

_I'm sorry I can't stay. I will pay you back._

_\- Peter_

 

Despite the circumstances Tony had to smile. This sounded so much like Peter.

“Do you want me to read it to you?”, Tony offered the lawyer as he accepted a steaming cup of coffee.

“No need, he pushed down hard enough for me to feel the ridges”, Murdock said, taking a cautious sip of his coffee. “I wasn't born blind.”

“Ah.”

“I'm sorry for not taking proper care of Peter. I should have made sure he stayed here until I had found someone to pick him up. What is your relationship to him to begin with?” Murdock asked him as he made his way to the couch. The man might be blind, but it looked like he knew where he was going without having to use his stick for guidance.

“I'm his temporary guardian as long as his aunt is in the hospital”, Tony said as he followed the lawyer. He sat down heavily on the couch, his worry coming back now that it was clear that Peter was no longer here.

“I had wondered about what had happened. Peter wouldn't tell me anything, but from the way he was acting I knew something was wrong. He also smelled like he had slept next to a dumpster for some time.”

“He ran away last week, I have been looking for him ever since.”

A few moments passed without the men speaking. Tony was slowly sipping his coffee while Murdock was staring at a far point on the wall.

“His aunt, what happened to her?”, the lawyer eventually broke the silence.

“Car accident. She is the only living relation Peter has left. His parents died a long time ago.”

“I see.”

“Mr Murdock”, Tony turned to face the man. “Do you have any idea where Peter could have gone off to? It is important that I find him.”

“Once again, I'm sorry to say that I won't be any help there. He most likely is back out on the streets.”

Tony put down his cup on the coffee table with a sigh. As he stood up to leave, he felt a wave of frustration wash over him.

“If you hear anything from him, let me now. And I will pay you back for the bail and your services so far. Just send me a receipt.”

“Before you leave”, Mr Murdock said as he stood up. “Peter's case is not closed yet, he will have to stand before a judge due to his actions against the police officer. I would like to finish the case, for Peter's sake.”

Tony gave the man a once over. He didn't know anything about this lawyer, didn't know if he was any good. If worst came to worst his own lawyer might be better suited for such a small offense as Peter's.

“Thank you, but I will be employing my own lawyer. Goodbye Mr Murdock.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

 

A few days later

Peter was back out on the street. The air was so cold now that he was almost always shivering. The money he had gotten from the drunk woman was gone now. Whenever a police car went by on the street, Peter would duck behind a dumpster or a street corner. Since his stay at the police station, he was pretty sure that Tony knew now that he was in Hell's Kitchen. With the days turning colder, the nights so cold he was afraid to close his eyes, Peter was seriously considering just giving up. Not his life, but being on the streets. And then is mind started thinking about it more and more, his breath would start to come in short puffs and his heart would start beating loudly in his chest. How could he even think about going back? There would only be the Morrisons, their complete lack of understanding, the new school that made him feel like an outsider even more than Midtown Tech had done, and Aunt May's lifeless form. Peter knew now that she would most likely not wake up. It had taken a few weeks, but the information had finally sunk in. She wasn't going to wake up, she wasn't going to wake up. The chances of anyone waking up from a coma were minimal. Someone with the trauma like his aunt was a lost case. If Peter went back, then he would most likely be the one to. . .to do it. And that was something he didn't want on his conscience. The thought alone made his stomach turn. It was better this way. Stay away from everything so you don't get hurt. No hurt, no pain, just nothing.

Peter was too tired when it finally got light to do much besides closing his eyes and falling asleep.

 

The noise of someone crashing against a dumpster woke him up or more like startled him into awareness. Peter had hidden in a long alley, not trusting to sleep in the same place every night. The alley was full of dumpsters, smelling of old garbage and home to a nice family of rats. Said family was now startled from the loud noise and ran past Peter, squeaking wildly. Peter slowly got up from the cold ground, his limps heavy and frozen from the cold. He threw a quick glance around the dumpster he had been sleeping behind.

There were three guys in the alley. Two of them were obviously hostile, one holding a baseball bat, the other a gun. The last guy was an elderly man, clearly the victim.

“Give me your money now!”, baseball bat screamed while his friend with the gun was holding the old man by the scruff of his neck.

“I-I gave you everything I have the last time. P-Please I don't have any more!”

The voices swept over Peter, overly loud in his ears. All other sounds were getting dimmer, slowly tuning themselves out. It was his spidersense reacting to the dangerous situation before him. If only he had his suit, then. . .

“Stop lying you piece of shit! Give us the money you owe us now!” Without any warning, baseball bat took a swing. The loud crunch of the old man's knee bone crumpling underneath the bat echoed in Peter's ears. The old man screamed in pain. More shouting followed. Peter saw red.

“Hey!”, he screamed, jumping out from behind the dumpster. He might not have his webshooters, but he was still stronger, could still climb the walls of the alley.

“Who's that?”, the guy with the gun asked confusedly, letting the old man go who crumbled to the ground with loud cries of pain.

“You got anything to say buddy?”

“Yes! Respect the elderly!”, Peter shouted back, slowly advancing on the guys. If only he had his suit, they might have already run away from him. But after days out on the street, he looked like any regular homeless kid. Harmless, vulnerable, weak.

“I didn't quite catch that!”

Both guys were now making their way towards Peter. Had his spidersense not overtaken his common sense, he would have run by now. Alas he wanted to help the old man. There was no way he could just leave him lying out there.

Before Peter could shout back a reply the guys were upon him. Baseball bat took a mighty swing, Peter only nearly escaping from getting hit in the head. It looked like the guy with the gun also had knucks. Because as he took a swing at Peter and hit his shoulder, Peter felt a crunch go through his body, pain erupting from his shoulder. He would have cried out in pain, had he not taken a hit from the baseball bat to his stomach. All air left his lungs in a swoosh, he doubled over retching onto the ground.

“You got enough already?” one of the guys sneered at him. Peter's vision was spotty, everything was turning.

“Yeah alright. Let's get back to grampa and get our money, Cal.”

“You idiot! You want that kid going to the police or what? Don't say my name!”, baseball bat, Cal, screamed at the guy with the knucks.

“It's not like they can find you without your last name”, knucks gave back.

“I have a record you idiot!”

“Will be easy then for the police”, better forced out of his breathless lungs. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Maybe he should have stayed down on the ground. With shaky legs he got up to face the two guys. He would get a good look at their faces, so he could tell the police about what they had done to the old man.

With a cry Cal took a swing at him. Peter might be groggy, but his body moved on his own, moving to the side and actually grabbing the baseball bat. I'm stronger, he thought, I can take him. Tearing the baseball bat out of Cal's hands, he took a swing at Cal, hitting his stomach. The bat felt wrong in his hands as it made contact with the soft stomach of Cal. It wasn't supposed to be used as a weapon. Self-defense came to his mind. It was self-defense. Cal dropped to the floor, breathless. He wouldn't be getting up soon.

“You little bastard”, knucks said through clenched teeth before advancing on Peter. He knew what to expect. Knucks took swing after swing at him, sometimes hitting, sometimes meeting. Peter fought back as good as he could, but it didn't seem like the fight would be over any time. Both of them didn't hear the woman calling out for them. The woman who had heard the old man's cries of pain and had come investigating. She was jogging down the alley now towards where they were fighting. Before everything went wrong. Time seemed to pass slower.

Cal was still on the floor, catching his breath. Knucks was still fighting Peter. He had lost his gun. Cal made a grab for it although still winded from the baseball bat. The woman shouted a warning. A shot was fired.

 

“I told you to stay in school.”

A face swam before his eyes. Peter's body was numb, heavy. He could faintly feel the pain in his shoulder, everything from his shoulder down felt. . . wrong, detached.

“Hey, keep your eyes open!”, the woman was shouting above him, her voice frantic. Did he know her? Somehow her face seemed familiar.

“May?”, Peter mumbled, although he knew that it couldn't be his aunt.

“It's December dumbass. I called an ambulance so stay the hell awake.” She was swearing at him and Peter didn't know why. He tried moving his body, but she was pushing him down with her hands. Despite the pain in his shoulder Peter lifted his head a little.

Whoa, that was a lot of blood.

“Stay still or you're gonna bleed out like a damn pig.”

“That's mine?”, Peter couldn't help but ask. His mind became clearer while the pain became sharper.

“Yeah. So keep still.” The woman applied more pressure to his stomach. Peter felt a spike of pain, heard himself cry out. Darkness claimed him.

 

Peter dreamed.

In his dream he was out to watch a movie with his Aunt May. It was September, slowly getting colder as October was drawing closer. They talked about buying popcorn and drinks and ice cream. The streets were shining with lights. The sky was clear and you could see the stars. When they were crossing a street, Peter heard a screech, then he only felt pain. He was looking up at the stars in the sky and wondered how he could see them between the lights of the city. His aunt was sitting next to him, he could feel her hand on his body. She was laughing and telling a funny story. Peter couldn't remember the story. But he could remember her hands on him, warm, familiar. He remembered hearing the ambulance. He remembered the way his body went slack after miraculously the pain went away. And all was good.

 

Peter woke up to the sound of beeping. Familiar beeping like a heart monitor in a hospital. Had his body not felt so heavy, Peter would have opened his eyes to see if he was indeed in a hospital. As he tried to move his body, he felt nothing. They must have given him something strong after the car accident for him not to feel his body anymore. Maybe he should just go back to sleep. . .

 

 


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Tony

 

The frantic call from Happy had come in at something after three. Tony couldn't remember the exact time. Everything was a blur. Happy had to tell him over and over again for Tony to understand what had happened and that he was waiting downstairs in a car to take him to the hospital. Overrun with worry, Tony had run down the stairs, not even putting on a jacket. At least he was wearing shoes. Happy zipped through the creeping up rush hour. Good for them that Happy was such a good driver, otherwise they might have ended up in a hospital themselves.

Tony had rushed out of the car before it had even fully stopped in front of the emergency entrance. The nurse at the information desk hadn't wanted to give him any information as he was not a family member. It took Happy, or more like Happy's copy of the temporary guardianship, to finally get any information on what had happened. Tony and Happy were let to a waiting room where a doctor or nurse would shortly come speak to them. It was a surprise for Tony and his slowly calming down heart to see Murdock in the waiting room. The man didn't acknowledge him, simply cocking his head to the side.

“Mr Murdock”, Tony addressed him, once he had gotten his breath back. Happy was still red in the face, sitting down heavily in a chair.

“Mr Stark”, the lawyer replied, turning his head in Tony's general direction.

“Why are you here?” Tony had no time for any dallying.

“I heard Peter was injured.” Calm. How could he be so calm?

“How do you know?”

“I was called by the police as I'm still his lawyer.” The answer made Tony grit his teeth. He had forgotten to officially fire the man.

“Well as I'm here now, you can leave.”

“I'm afraid that won't be possible. The police will no doubt want to question Peter and as his lawyer I should be present.” The resolution in Murdock's voice made Tony falter. He had no strength left in him to worry about the lawyer. Where was the doctor with news about Peter?

 

Gunshot wound, right trough the abdomen, some internal bleeding, a crushed shoulder bone that would take months to heal, a few cuts and scrapes. Nothing Peter wouldn't survive. Tony was sitting at his bedside after having Peter moved to a private room that would no doubt cost a fortune, not that it would make any dent in the money Tony possessed.

Just like his aunt, Peter was hooked up to a heart monitor and to an IV line. They had given him a strong sedative after he had woken up in the operating theater. The doctor who had told him that little fact had looked nervous, he knew that Tony could very well sue the hospital for this. Alas Tony had no strength to worry about that. The most important thing right now was Peter. Nothing else mattered. Since he had seen Peter about two weeks ago, his cheeks had sunk in even more, dark bags under his eyes from no doubt sleepless nights spent out on the streets. They had put another blanket on top of him to keep him warm. The amount of sedatives given to him would keep him out for a while. Enough time for Tony to get his shit back together and figure things out. Like what he was going to do now. Usually taking one step at a time was a fool proof way for Tony to do things, but now it felt like he couldn't really think of all the options he had now. What should he do when Peter woke up? Should he be stern and tell him off? Should he be forgiving for the teenager's mistakes? And what about his aunt? She was still lying in her coma, not having gotten better at all.

“Mr Stark? May I talk to you for a moment?” That was Murdock's voice. Tony didn't want to turn around to face the lawyer, didn't want to let go of Peter's limp hand. Limp just like May's.

“What is it?”

“Regarding Peter's statement to the police and the charges against him.”

“Fire away”, Tony replied sarcastically, his bad mood would be showing through soon. His patience was slowly running thin with the young lawyer.

“I let the doctor sign a statement saying that Peter would be unable to give any statement for at least a week. If the investigating officers agrees to it, we will go to the station to give the statement. I have also called about the case against Peter which has been put on hold until he is better. That should give us about three or so weeks before Peter has to talk in front of a judge. I hope this is agreeable to you.”

“Yes”, Tony simply grunt out, hoping that the lawyer would finally leave.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No.”

“I will leave you two alone then.” Tony could hear the retreating steps, the soft swish of the white stick.

And then he was left alone with Peter. Small Peter who was really just a kid and didn't deserve to get hurt in this way.

 

 

Murdock was back the next day, calmly sitting in the waiting room with Happy, sipping coffee. Tony didn't know why the man seemed to care so much about Peter. But when he came back from a quick phone call to Pepper – just to keep her updated – and a quick bathroom break, he found the lawyer in Peter's room.

He wasn't sitting down, but standing in front of the bed. His head was angled downwards which made it look like he was looking down at Peter.

“You need to get him out of here.”

“Excuse me?” Tony came to stand next to the lawyer. Murdock's face was calm, but there was a small crease between his brow.

“Mr Stark, everyone knows you are Ironman. But do they know who Peter is?” Tony could only sputter in disbelief. What was that guy saying?

“I can hear it. The healing in his body. I'm sure you know that Peter is not. . . not normal. For his own safety, you should get him transferred as soon as possible.”

“What do you mean, you can hear it? Who are you?”, Tony made to grab Murdock's arm, but he quickly stepped aside.

“I will give the case over to your lawyer. Give my greetings to Peter.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

A groan coming from the bed stopped Tony from saying anything more.

“Peter?”

 


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Peter

 

Peter knew that voice. His eyelids still felt heavy, his body felt. . . floaty? Cracking one eye open, Peter was greeted by a bright light.

“Peter? Can you hear me?”

Was that. . . ? Could it be. . .?

“Mr Stark?”, Peter asked quietly. His voice sounded small in his ears, small and weak.

“Yeah kid, it's me.” Mr Stark sounded relieved.

Slowly, Peter forced his other eye to open. He was in a hospital room, the insistent beeping next to him could only be from a heart monitor. His entire stomach felt like it was on fire, his shoulder as well.

“Did I have a car accident?”, Peter asked slowly. Not sure if he had only dreamed about the accident or if it had really happened.

“No. You were in a fight, someone shot you.” Mr Stark's face suddenly came into his vision.

“Oh. Okay.”

Peter felt his eyes getting heavy once more, before sleep claimed him again.

 

The only visitors he received were Tony and Happy. Although Tony basically never left his bedside. Nurses and doctors were constantly taking a look at him, making sure that he was alright. He was in a private room that much was for sure. There also seemed to be added security in front of his door. Sometimes when he didn't feel as weak from the medication they kept giving him, he was able to move his head to the side and see the black jacket of the security guard posted in front of his door. Moving his head hurt a lot though. With his broken shoulder, it felt hard to move his upper body at all and then there was the gun shot wound on his stomach which kept him from doing any moving there. He couldn't even move his little toe without it hurting, or maybe that was just his imagination. All of the days seemed to blend together in the hospital however. Peter could barely discern day from night as December had arrived in full force and the skies were always gray, heavy clouds blocking the sun.

Mr Stark would sit by his bedside, reading something on his Starkpad, doing conference calls while playing hangman with Peter, or simply nodding off. He looked tired, his clothes were rumpled from staying in the chair all day. Peter wasn't allowed to get up any time soon, so they were stuck to his room. Mr Stark had explained the temporary guardianship to him and he had explained it to him again after he had forgotten. With all the medication Peter's short term memory got a little fuzzy sometimes.

One day a strange woman came into the room. It took Peter some time to remember that this was Pepper Potts, Tony's long time girlfriend. She had crept into the room on her high heeled shoes, her clothing and hair impeccable. A finger pressed to her lips, so Peter wouldn't speak up, she had crept towards a sleeping Tony and given him a loud kiss in greeting which had woken him right up. From thereon Pepper would come by every day for half an hour to visit Peter and Tony at the hospital. She would never stay long, quickly talking about business with Tony and then giving him some time to take a shower and change. After her first words spoken to him, Peter felt like Pepper would make a great friend, someone he could confide in.

That's why he asked her instead of Tony what would happen to him now.

“Didn't Tony tell you about the guardianship?” Peter knew that by now it was all over the newspapers, a nurse had told him. Someone had leaked the news to the press.

“He did, but. . . what does it even mean?”

“It means you are moving in with him and he is going to take care of you.”

“W-What about my aunt?”

Pepper's face had turned sad then.

“Oh Peter”, she had exclaimed, walking around the bed to take hold of his good hand that was not wrapped up in some giant contraption keeping his shoulder still.

“I think Tony should talk to you about this. It's not my place. . .”, she trailed off.

“P-Please”, Peter said and hated himself for how weak his own voice sounded. There was no trace of Spider-Man left in it.

“Alright. She, well, she isn't getting any better. But, hey no crying! Listen to me Peter!”

Peter couldn't help himself, hearing someone else saying what he had kept close in his heart for so long. It hurt.

“Peter, listen! Tony has brought in experts, okay? One of them might have a treatment for your aunt. Don't give up yet! I mean, look at Tony. He's had a giant hole in his chest and now he is fine!”

Pepper's words sounded true, despite that Peter still had a hard time believing her. Nonetheless he brushed the few stray tears away and accepted Pepper's hand squeezing his own in comfort.

 

Tony arranged for a special doctor, one who was no doubt on a giant pay roll and would definitely keep quiet, to see Peter and get him discharged from the hospital sooner. Peter's scratches had all healed within two days, leaving behind unblemished skin. The nurse had stared at him wonderingly that first morning she had wanted to change a dressing on his arm only to reveal perfect skin. The shoulder and gunshot wound would take a little longer to heal completely, but in two weeks or so Peter should be able to walk around again as if nothing had happened.

Since no one could find about Peter's superpowers, Tony tried to get him discharged earlier by the hospital's doctors, all of them agreeing that it was way to soon for this. Therefore another doctor had been send in who somehow made it possible to get Peter out earlier.

There were certain conditions surrounding this early discharge, one being that Peter had to sit in a wheelchair.

Tony had promised him that they would only use it to get him downstairs to the waiting car, but Peter still felt embarrassed when he shuffled down from the bed into the wheelchair and Tony spread a blanket over his lap.

Taking no pleasure from shoving Peter around the hospital, the two of them quickly left the ward behind them and made their way downstairs. Only when Tony had gotten him into the car, could Peter draw a deep breath. Happy threw him a look in the rearview mirror, but didn't say anything. A few minutes later Tony opened the door and slipped in besides Peter.

“You alright there kiddo?”, Tony asked him, his voice light.

“Yeah.”

“Good, I hope you like your new room. It has a great view of Manhattan. . . “, Tony kept on talking about the penthouse, Peter's new room there, the school he would go to.

For Peter this all felt familiar. Once again he was taken away from his aunt who still was in a coma, Tony never uttering a word about a specialist coming in. Once again he was made to leave his old home behind, move into a new room and was made to go to a new school.

Somehow things seemed to repeat themselves and slowly Peter was getting fed up with that.

 

Alright, Tony had been right about the view. It was stunning. The room was perfect, way better than the room he had had to share with Jamal at the Morrisons. Definitely bigger than his room at Aunt May's. But it felt wrong. It felt like a guest room, like nothing in it belonged to Peter. None of his stuff was in there. Only the backpack and a few clothes he had had at the Morrisons. He had claimed tiredness to be left alone, now Peter lay in his bed, on his side and looked out of the window. Snow was falling softly outside. He wished for a windowsill so he could build a little snowman there like he used to. Or maybe a little snow Spider-Man. Something like that would've been nice.

“Boss says if you need anything you should let him know”, F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice sounded in his new room.

Peter kept quiet, watching the snowflakes get bigger and bigger.

“I need verbal confirmation”, the AI said eventually.

“Yeah, okay”, Peter gave back. He was really getting tired now. Tired and fed up with everything. Why couldn't Tony tell him stuff like Pepper had done? What was so hard about talking openly to him? The thought of his aunt came back to him. He hadn't been allowed to visit her in the hospital, hadn't even been allowed to leave his room. Even when he had felt better and wanted to at least take a few steps in the hallway nurses had quickly ushered him back into bed. Had Pepper lied to him and his aunt had already died? The thought shot through his head, making him dizzy for a second, before pain clutched at his stomach. Peter couldn't bear the thought of his aunt dead. Of his aunt dying all alone. He felt the tears come on and did the only thing he could think of: pull the cover over his head and press his hands over his ears. Never mind the pain in his shoulder. Shutting down felt like the right thing to do.

 

“How's you're arm?”, Mr Stark asks him.

Somehow Peter made it through the night and morning, now they are sitting in the spacious living room, eating pizza out of a carton. No plates, no napkins. Once Peter had imagined doing something like this with Mr Stark, just casually hanging out, eating pizza, watching a movie. That was before the accident. Even when Mr Stark had taken away his suit, Peter had still felt that longing to spend time with the older man. Somehow Mr Stark had slipped into the role of Uncle Ben. He was by no means a substitute for his uncle, but he had become a male role model. Peter winced at his own thoughts. The meds he was on must be making him think weird stuff.

“Does it hurt?”, Mr Stark's voice grew concerned.

“N-No, no it's fine!”, Peter hurries to say. He is fed up with taking a ton of pain meds every day and wants nothing more than stop taking them, just so he can finally think more than twenty minutes straight.

“Two more weeks and it should be all healed up.”

Yeah. Alright. Two more weeks of not being able to move his whole arm, of barely being able to write.

“So, I've been thinking. . . “, Mr Stark starts, turning around to face Peter who is sitting in the corner of the couch, knees crossed underneath him. Peter had two slices of pizza and can feel them climbing back up his throat as he is faced with Tony looking at him.

“That gun shot wound is nearly healed, how about going back to school next week?”

School was the last thing Peter expected to talk about now. At least the pizza was settling down again.

“Uh, okay.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, throwing him one of his looks.

“Okay? Don't you want to study, buddy? There is this private school just around the corner which has a great science program. For a private school anyway.”

Oh, another school?, dread plummets into his stomach. He knew that there had been the possibility of having to go to another school again, but did it have to be a private school? Why couldn't he go back to his old school? Peter hadn't texted Ned in ages. To be honest Peter missed his old school. The teachers, the geeky kids, the decathlon team, even Flash who was teasing him nonstop. He could do without the name calling, but it had still been _his_ school.

“No thoughts on this Peter?”, Tony was starring at him, making him realize that he hadn't said anything.

“O-Okay.” What Peter had wanted to say was: Why can't I go back to Midtown Tech?

Tony kept staring at him and something must have been written on his face for Tony shuffled a little closer to him on the couch.

“Listen kid, I want what's best for you, alright? If you don't agree with stuff I do, then you can always tell me so. You know my father never let me make a decision, always deciding for me, well that doesn't matter now. Come on, talk to me.”

“Uh”, Peter bit his lip. How could he say that he wanted to go back to Midtown Tech without hurting Mr Stark's feelings? He couldn't just blurt out his thoughts, could he?

“U-Uh Mr Stark-”

“Call me Tony, we've been over this”, Mr Stark interrupts him.

“Yes, right. Uhm, Mr- Tony, I. . . can't I go back to Midtown Tech? I mean, I-I liked it there and. . .” Peter knows he is stammering, but he just can't help himself. Why was it so hard to tell Mr Stark what he thought? The man had openly asked for his opinion, he should at least try to voice it clearly.

“The private school is closer than your old school. Why don't you try it out? It's only two weeks until christmas holidays? If you don't like it, you can go back to your old school.” Compromise, Mr Stark is offering him a compromise. Peter just isn't sure that he wants to compromise.

“I don't mind the commute”, he mumbles, hands fumbling in his lap.

Mr Stark looks at him. The silence is stretching while Mr Stark's heavy gaze is upon him. Peter doesn't dare look up. Doesn't even dare to bring forth more arguments.

“Okay.”

Peter's head snaps up. Mr Stark raises his eyebrow once more.

“I said okay. If you want to go back to your school, that's okay.”

“T-Thanks Mr Stark!”, Peter exclaims, for the first time in a long time a feeling of happiness is bubbling up inside of him.

“I told you to call me Tony”, Mr Starks exclaims as if he is somehow embarrassed by Peter's happy outburst. “Here have some more pizza.”

 

To make the day even better, Tony had given him a new phone. Peter knew Ned's number by heart, had already typed him in as a contact. Now he was staring at the empty screen. What was he supposed to text him? Hey Ned, it's Peter, this is my new number? Hey Ned, it's been a while, how are you doing? Or hey Ned, I was shot? All of those things sounded crappy, making Peter think about calling Ned. Alas then he would have to talk to his best friend and that was just something he wasn't prepared to do right now.

In the end Peter decided to text a simple short message.

 

6:41

Hey Ned, it's Peter.

 

A second later his phone was vibrating already.

 

**6:41**

**OMG, where have you been????**

 

**6:42**

**R U alright???**

 

**6:42**

**Where r u????**

 

Peter began typing a response, Ned sending new questions what felt like every few seconds.

 

6:46

It's a long story. I'm okay now. Staying with Mr Stark. I will be back in school soon.

 

**6:47**

**Whoa. The MR STARK???**

 

6:48

Yeah, the Mr Stark.

 

**6:49**

**So when r u back at school? U r missing out on decathlon**

 

6:51

Next week probs. Have to go now.

 

Peter put the phone aside and took a deep breath. It seemed like Ned had only been worried about him, not mad or anything. His phone was vibrating once more, announcing a new message, but Peter suddenly felt to tire to answer it again. His shoulder was hurting slightly from being laid upon, so he sat up, turning on his StarkPad. His laptop was still back at home, but at least he could search the internet with this thing. The first thing he did was look for an obituary of Aunt May. Tony still hadn't said anything in that direction. Despite Pepper telling him that his aunt was as fine as she could be, he needed to see some kind of confirmation. He was scrolling through pages after pages, but couldn't find anything. Hopefully that meant that Pepper hadn't been lying to him.

Next Peter checked the news for anything Spider-Man related. Nothing interesting popped up there, the news he had seen about two weeks ago before the robbery were the newest. It's like Peter had expected there to be anything new about him.

His fingers were itching to start a search of coma patients with traumatic brain injury. If it hadn't been for the knock on his door.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Tony

 

“Mr Parker is searching for May Parker's obituary.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice pulled him straight out of his thoughts. Tony was in the small workshop he had set up in his new penthouse, doing something unimportant just to keep his hands still and mind occupied.

“I will be damned”, Tony cursed under his breath. He hadn't wanted to have _that_ talk just yet. Had wanted to let Peter settle in first – even if that wasn't going the way he wanted to go exactly. Pepper kept badgering him to talk to Peter about his aunt, about what they were going to do now. Somehow Tony hadn't wanted to put that burden on Peter. May hadn't gotten any better, was slowly declining even. They only had about two months left before they would have to either pull the plug and let her die in dignity or to let her fade away day by day. It wasn't a decision a fifteen year old teenager should be forced to make. Alas Peter was the only living relative. Someone had to make the decision. Time was slowly running out and Peter's patience seemed to as well.

Putting down whatever he had been working on, Tony stood up and made his way towards Peter's new room. Reluctantly knocking on the door, he entered a few seconds later.

Peter was sitting at his desk, Starkpad in front of him. He looked pale in the brightness of the room, tired.

“I think you and I need to have a talk.” Tony cringed. Spoken just like his father.

 

Tony is sitting on Peter's bed, his body turned towards the teenager who is still sitting at his desk. Peter looks nervous as is he is expecting something bad to happen. He is hanging his head and fiddling at his sling. Tony wants to tell him to stop the fiddling, but doesn't find it in him to do so.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y told me about your little internet search.” Peter flinches visibly. Maybe that opening line hadn't been such a great idea after all.

“No worries kiddo. It was. . . it was your right to check. I didn't want to burden you with too much. Must have been wrong”, Tony clears his throat. He is once again reminded of his father who would never tell him anything, leaving him out in the blue. At Peter's age, he had absolutely hated it. As Peter doesn't reply, Tony keeps on talking. And maybe it is better that way, for Tony can't imagine saying everything, absolutely everything if he is interrupted.

“So, I talked to a few doctors about treatment for your aunt, who – yes – is still alive. None of them are quite sure that anything can be done at this stage. I know you don't want to hear this, but it's not looking good. If we don't find a treatment, then May has a few months left. At best. I'm waiting for one of my. . . friends to reply. He has been kind of out of touch lately, no idea where he has gone off to. Anyways, he is a scientist and might have an idea what we can do. So you don't give up hope, alright? You hear me Peter?”

Peter is still staring at his lap. He looks tired, like the whole weight on the earth lies on his shoulders. But he gives a feeble nod and that is all Tony wants.

“You know you can- can talk to me, right? Any question you come and ask me, got it?” Another weak nod from the teenager sitting opposite him. Tony is at his wit's end. He doesn't know how to handle a sad teenager. The only thing he can think of is fleeing, so he gets up and leaves Peter alone in his room.

 

It's past midnight and Tony is still in his workshop.

He feels like crap now, hours after he had talked to Peter. Maybe the kid had needed some kind of physical reassurance? A pat on the shoulder, a tousling of his hair, or maybe even a goddamn hug. Tony wasn't the affectionate kind of guy, never having gotten much affection during his childhood. Maybe he needed to take a parenting class. Was there something like a parenting class for middle aged bachelors who had an on/off girlfriend and were now taking care of a teenager? Tony was tempted to try searching for it online. Alas searching for parental advice online would most likely be easier. He grabbed his Starkpad and started a search through various search engines. And whoa. That was a lot of information on how to handle a teenager. Tony let F.R.I.D.A.Y go through all of the contents and put down the most important info for him that way he could watch some cat videos on youtube.

 

It was two in the morning and Tony couldn't get his mind to shut up.

He had watched about half an hour of cat footage on youtube while F.R.I.D.A.Y had compiled a document for him. Now words like 'curfew, pocket money, chores' were running through his head. Despite all the advice Tony had found online, he still didn't really know how to apply it to his own life. If he went up to Peter tomorrow telling him that his curfew was at nine, how would Peter react? It's not like he was going anywhere anytime soon without Tony knowing. There was no way the teenager would find his way outside unobserved for the rest of his life. Even if Tony had to go as far as give him a tracker implant. Which actually sounded like a good idea. He should get around to doing just that. But maybe, Peter didn't want that. He had already taken out the tracker in his suit once. It had been a lot of work to put in a new tracker into the suit and also install a backup, just in case Peter decided to take out the obvious tracker once more.

Goddamit, he shouldn't have searched for parental advice. With a sigh Tony put his glasses back on and returned to his cat videos on youtube.

 

 

“Don't call me for shit like that again”, her voice was angry, normal angry not drunk angry. Not yet.

“I was in a client meeting and you were the only one I knew I could rely on.”

“Bullshit. Why didn't you call – how did you call him?- kid with a glowing fist?”

Matt sighed.

“He wouldn't have made it in time. He is. . . too soft-hearted. Innocent.”

He can feel her anger thrum through her. It's easy to read Jessica once you know her. She doesn't reply, but Matt can feel the anger simmering under her calm surface.

“You owe me”, she says. Matt can feel her glare on him. It's burning. If she could, her eyes would be shooting laser beams.

“I owe you. If you ever need a lawyer-”

“I have a lawyer.”

“Then if you ever need a _second_ lawyer, call me.”

Jessica huffs. She is an impatient woman who liked to be left in peace after everything that had happened to her. Matt doesn't know much about what had happened to her, just little tidbits here and there. Information he made Karen pull up for him, record for him, so that he could simply listen to her voice reading the information. Matt feels Jessica get up, her boots heavy on her way to the door. She always lets herself out.

“How is he? The kid I mean?”, she stops, her voice low.

“Better, I believe.”

She doesn't reply, clanging the door shut behind her.

And Matt wonders how Peter is really doing. He had felt that he was not welcome at the hospital. Stark had made that clear. Still, Matt couldn't do anything about his worry for the teenager. He had known that Peter was different from the moment he had first stepped into the interrogation room. The sounds a human body made, the small sounds like the beating heart, the blood rushing in your veins, those sounds had been different with Peter. Matt hadn't been able to place this phenomenon. Until Peter had been shot and had been brought into the hospital. With his enhanced hearing, Matt had been able to make out the flesh slowly knitting back together. The way the bones were moving in Peter's shoulder, slowly mending. But still healing faster than a normal human. After all Matt had tons of experience with those healing sounds. He was by no means invincible, had heard his flesh knitting together on more than one occasion. His body however made the sounds a human body made, Peter's had been different.

There had been no sign at all that Peter had any special talents, that he was different somehow. Still Matt couldn't keep from wondering who was Peter Parker?

 


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Peter

 

Peter couldn't sleep. He had told F.R.I.D.A.Y not to close the blinds, much preferring to look out into the gray night. It was still snowing lightly, some of the snowflakes being blown against his window.

Was Peter glad that Tony had come talk to him? Maybe. The weight of not knowing if his aunt was still alive had been lifted from his shoulders, only for the much heavier weight of despair appearing on them. There was no doctor who could help his aunt. There were no treatments. Tony had one friend who might be able to help. But if that friend couldn't help, what was Peter to do? He knew the obvious answer of course, he simply couldn't bear it. If he didn't think about it, it might not be able to come true, right? Peter wished he could vanish again, leave all his problems behind. Although he knew that it was wrong to run away and he hadn't particularly liked living on the streets. His neck was tingling again, nervousness washing over him. Peter grabbed his phone from the nightstand and pulled the blanket over his head. The screen flashed brightly, hurting his eyes as he turned on the phone.

Two new messages.

One was from Ned, the other – surprisingly – from MJ. Ned must have given her his number. First Peter read Ned's text.

 

**6:57**

**Cool, text me again!**

 

Peter didn't send a reply to that, not wanting to wake up his friend who was no doubt asleep by now.

Then he opened the text from MJ.

 

_8:12_

_So, heard you are coming back, loser?_

 

Peter had to grin. He could imagine MJ standing in front of him, throwing him one of her looks. The loser was tagged on sarcastically, Peter knew enough about MJ now to know when she was being sarcastic.

 

1:46

Yeah, probs next week or so.

 

He didn't expect MJ to reply to him due to the late hour. So he pulled up youtube and watched some Spider-Man footage for some time. He had seen most of what was online already, but sometimes it felt good for Peter to see himself swinging around the streets of Queens. Suddenly his phone vibrated with an incoming text.

 

_1:58_

_Shouldn't you be in bed princess?_

 

1:59

Am. U?

 

Peter hates himself for typing and sending that. It was embarrassing. Really embarrassing.

 

_2:01_

_I'm reading._

_2:02_

_Wanna talk?_

 

Before Peter can send a reply, his phone is vibrating with an incoming call. MJ's name pops up on the screen. He scrambles out from underneath his blanket, pulling his hurt shoulder the wrong way during the process and accepts the call more than a little breathless.

“Hey loser.”

“H-hey”, Peter greets back. He never talked to a girl on the phone before. Only his aunt, but she was, well his aunt.

“So, what happened? Didn't really get much information on that. Teachers said you had changed school, nothing more.”

“U-Uh yeah. Uhm my aunt was in an accident and well. . .”, somehow knowing that MJ is on the other side of the line, willing to listen. . . Peter's heart is thumping loudly in his chest, but then everything starts spilling out of him. The accident, the hospital, being moved to the Morrisons, the new school, running away, the robbery, running away again, ending up shot in the hospital and finally at Tony's place.

Peter didn't know why he was telling her everything. Didn't know where the trust came from. He hadn't exactly hung out with MJ before. The decathlon team and lunch break being the only time they spend together- or more like in the same room. The one thing Peter knew for sure was that it felt could to finally talk about everything. To talk to someone who might not be able to understand what had happened, but who was simply there for him.

When he had finally said everything there was to say and that included his fear about having to shut down the machines that were keeping his aunt alive, Peter's cheeks were wet with tears. His nose was running and as he didn't have a tissue, he just sniveled.

MJ was quiet on the other side of the line, making Peter afraid that she had fallen asleep or. . .

“That's shit. I'm sorry Peter.”

There. She had used his name. His real name for the first time.

“Thanks.”

“Don't just say thanks! Jeez, loser, listen I know it must suck, but just don't give up on your aunt. If everybody gives up on her, then she will do so to. She's not dead yet! There is this book I once read about. . .”

 

They talk until five in the morning. Peter's voice is rough and his eyes feel swollen. He did some more crying during their talk, quiet crying so as not to alert MJ. When they finally hung up, Peter having promised to stay in touch, even if it was one stupid text a day, he pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and fell asleep.

 

It's noon already before Peter can peel the blanket away and wearily gets out of bed. He still feels like he needs more sleep, but he is also thirsty and needs to use the bathroom. The penthouse is quiet as he shuffles through the hallway, first into the bathroom and then into the kitchen. He gets himself a bottle of water and sits down at the kitchen island. After pulling it the wrong way the day before, his shoulder is aching again. Peter carefully peels off his sling and tries to flex his shoulder.

“I wouldn't do that. Also what's with the staying up so late?”, Tony ventures into the kitchen, an edge to his voice.

“U-Uh. . .”

“Come on let me see that shoulder. Did you pull it?”

Tony makes his way towards him and starts patting down Peter's shoulder. There is a brief spike of pain as Tony touches a certain area and Peter cannot help himself, drawing in a quick breath.

“Did that hurt?”, there is concern in Tony's voice now.

“Yes.”

“I will call my doctor to have a look at it.”

Tony helps him putting his sling back on, before walking around the kitchen island and getting out some cereal.

“So, care to tell me why you were on your phone so late?”

A bowl is placed in front of Peter, cereals already in it. Milk is put down next to the bowl, a spoon somehow finding it's way to him to. Peter pours himself some milk before answering Tony's question. There is this perfect state of soggy-not soggy cereals Peter likes. While he is talking to Tony, his cereal can achieve this perfect state.

“I was talking to MJ.”

“I know. I can see who you are talking to although I cannot hear what you are saying”, Tony adds as he sees the disbelief on Peter's face.

“She is a friend from school.” Before tonight, their talk, Peter wouldn't have called MJ a friend. Ned had been his only friend before.

“Continue”, Tony said, leaning against the kitchen counter and waiting for him to elaborate.

“We were talking about stuff. . . and things I have missed at school. She's going to send me her notes later so I can catch up.”

Tony is nodding along now, watching as Peter slowly starts eating his bowl of cereal.

“Alright.”

Peter looks up from his cereal.

“No more late night calls. No more staying up all night. Your bedtime is ten. Eleven on weekends.”

Tony read somewhere that a fixed bedtime is very important for a child. He didn't know how May had handled it before, but it sounded right in his ears, so it couldn't be that wrong.

“T-Ten?”, Peter nearly spits his cereal out. “Bedtime is for kids!”

“You are a kid”, Tony retorts.

“Small kids!”

“I'm not going to discuss this with you. Eat your breakfast. I'm calling my doctor.” With that Tony leaves Peter alone in the kitchen. He can't believe he has just been told that he has a bedtime. Aunt May basically let him do whatever he wanted, with a few rules for his safety thrown in here and there. “Looks like this will be different than I thought”, Peter says quietly under his breath.

 

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Peter

 

Tony's doctor actually made him go back to the hospital for a x-ray of his shoulder. All the trouble just from getting tangled in a blanket. Peter would have made more of a fuss about going to the hospital if Tony hadn't bribed him with actually visiting his aunt there. Little did he know that Tony had planned on doing so anyway.

Now Peter had had another x-ray just to see if he needed operation or not. He still couldn't believe his own stupidity. If he had just been a little bit more careful. . .

Peter sunk down a little in his chair in the waiting room. Tony was across in the hallway talking to his doctor. Why he hadn't brought her in before, Peter didn't know. They were too far away for him to catch anything of what they were saying. Tony threw a glance in his direction and Peter quickly looked down. His arm was back in the sling, a faint pulse of pain coming from his shoulder. It was not as bad as it had been the first few days after he had woken up, but it still wasn't a nice feeling. There was a squeaking noise, steps making their way towards him.

“So, looks like you ruined some of the progress you made. Doc says you won't need operation, so count yourself lucky.” Tony sounded just as relieved as Peter felt.

“However, you will need to wear the sling for at least one more week. And you're also back on a higher dose of your pain meds.”

Yeah, Peter cringed, the pain meds he hadn't taken since yesterday.

“Additionally you will take some anti-inflammation meds. I will go and grab them for you when you're visiting your aunt.”

Peter looked up then at the man standing in front of him. He couldn't help but smile, just a twitch of the corners of his mouth really. Tony was throwing him one of his small smile, the ones he reserved for special moments. Alas Peter didn't know that.

“Alright, let's get going.”

 

“Hello Aunt May, it's me, Peter.”

His aunt looked pale, her skin thin and fallen in. Since the last time Peter had seen her, she had lost a lot of weight and she had been thin to begin with. Otherwise she looked like she was simply sleeping, her hair was combed, her nails clean and not too long. She still had the IV in her arm, the heart monitor beeping away and an oxygen mask was settled over her nose.

“I'm sorry for not visiting, but I. . . there. . . I'm sorry.” Peter doesn't know where to start. Maybe his aunt shouldn't know about everything that had happened to him. She might be in a coma, but what if everything he told her was still processed in her brain? He didn't want her waking up, being afraid for him because he had been shot. If she woke up at all. The terrible truth had found a spot in Peter's mind, had festered there and no matter how people tried to reassure him, Peter knew that it was only a matter of time. His aunt was already dead.

“So, uhm Mr Stark is taking care of me now and yeah. . . I'm going back to school next week. Midtown Tech, so I can hang out with Ned again. Maybe build some Lego and stuff. . .”

Usually Peter would tell his aunt how much he missed her, how much he wanted her to wake up. But what was the point? Of course he wanted his aunt to wake up and everything to go back to normal, it just wasn't possible. Peter saw no way out of this situation. The only thing seeming to help him was trying to convince himself that it was better this way or shutting down.

“Mr Stark is a good guy”, he said instead of what he really wanted to say. Once he could have talked openly about his feelings with his aunt, but now. . .

“He moved into this big penthouse after selling the Stark Tower. My room is pretty neat. I can see most of Manhattan out of my windows. It just snowed. It's not yet cold enough but soon the snow will be piling up and we-”, Peter cuts himself short. _We can build a snowman,_ it's what he had wanted to say. Whenever the snow had been piling up enough, May and Peter would build little snowmen on the windowsills of their apartment. If the snow kept on coming and Peter had a snow day, they would go out on the street and build an actual snowman. They had always been doing this, it was part of their winter traditions just like drinking eggnog out of chocolate cups while watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Well Aunt May and Uncle Ben had been drinking the eggnog. Now that Uncle Ben had died, Aunt May had been the only one drinking the eggnog. Behind her back Uncle Ben had always let Peter try some of the eggnog, just what was left over in the bottom of the chocolate cup. They had done this every year just to see if maybe Peter would like the taste of eggnog after a few years. Peter didn't and now there would be no chance for him to grow accustomed to the taste.

“How is your aunt dear?”

Peter turned around to face an elderly lady who he had sometimes met on his visits here. Her daughter was lying on the other side of the room. She was a little older than May. But just like her she had had an accident and fallen into a coma.

Peter shook his head in reply.

“Well, my Carrie isn't any better either. Not getting worse though. I'm thinking about moving her into a private nursing home sometime soon. What about you?”

Peter knows the woman only means to do well, she doesn't want to make him sad. It's just that Peter doesn't feel like he can talk to this woman about what is most likely going to happen.

“Peter”, Tony says. His saviour. “Say goodbye to your aunt, we are leaving.”

Both Peter and the woman turn to face Tony standing in the doorway, a white paper bag in his hands.

“Are you a relative?”, the old woman asks Tony, her attention leaving Peter. Not listening to them talk, Peter focuses on saying goodbye to his aunt. He gives her hand a soft squeeze – not followed by any response like he hopes for – then he cards her hair away from her temple and gives her a quick kiss. He used to do that when he was just a kid, scared to go to elementary school.

“Bye Aunt May, I will see you soon.”

Tony looks impatient now, like he didn't want to talk to the elderly woman at all. He quickly ushers Peter out of the hospital room and downstairs to where Happy is waiting with the car to pick them up.

The ride back to the penthouse is quiet.

 

MJ stayed true to her word and send Peter all of the notes she had taken during class. Peter wants nothing more than to finally do something with his mind besides thinking about his aunt. However Tony insisted on watching him take the new meds after they came back and now Peter feels too groggy to do more than lie in his bed. He's gotten a new text from Ned, but he is too tired to read it, also everything is kind of swimming in front of his eyes, so Peter tries to simply relax. He knows Tony is most likely tinkering away in his workshop, although he is interested on seeing on whatever Tony is working on right now, Peter simply feels too tired to get up. Thanks to the pain meds his shoulder is no longer hurting, too bad he is supposed to keep it still for at least two days now.

Tony's doctor once worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. And therefore know about his faster healing abilities. She was sworn to secrecy though, to keep Peter's identity hidden from the wrong people.

Peter could feel himself dozing off. He would have a look at MJ's notes later. He would answer Ned's text later. Later.

 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Peter

 

Somehow Peter and Tony fell into a routine easily.

Which might have had something to do with Peter never straying far from his room and keeping to himself a lot. Before the accident, Peter had never been one to sleep in late, not even on weekends. Especially not after having been out on patrol into the early hours of the next day. He had always made sure to keep to a schedule. Now after having lived on the street, his schedule was a little messed up, adding to that were the meds he had to take once more – this time Tony was making sure he was actually taking them in front of him, not that he had said anything to the two missed days –. It was nearing noon when Peter finally trudged out of his room, hair messy and without a shirt on. Sometimes he couldn't be bothered to first take his sling off to put a shirt on and then put the sling back on. Overall the sling was more than annoying for Peter and he only wanted to take it off and be done with it.

Tony knew the look of a disgruntled teenager – having been one himself – he also knew how bothersome slings could be. However there was nothing he could do as long as the doctor's orders still stood.

“Didn't we talk about late nights?”, Tony commented while pouring himself a cup of coffee. He had been awake since early in the morning, not due to nightmares. Instead it had been nerves. Tomorrow was Peter's first day back in school. When Tony had done a subtle check up on Peter, F.R.I.D.A.Y had reported him being awake late, talking to Michelle on his phone. Again.

“Yeah”, was Peter's only reply, as he scrubbed his hand through his hair.

“Listen kiddo, if I lay down rules, you follow them. No- I mean- goddamit, just do as your told!” Tony was conflicted, on the one hand he didn't want to be like his father, didn't want to sound like him. On the other hand, Peter clearly needed some rules in his life, especially now. For the thousandth time, Tony wondered how May had done it. How anybody did it really, this whole parenting thing.

“I gave you a bedtime, you stick to it. Especially now when you're going back to school.”

“I was catching up. . . “, Peter tries, but he knows his lie is feeble. Tony only raises an eyebrow in response.

“Bedtime is at ten, curfew is at nine, no more electronics after curfew.”

“Hey, that's not fair!”, Peter protests.

“I ordered some pizza for lunch – or in your case breakfast.” With that Tony takes his full cup of coffee and leaves Peter alone in the kitchen.

After waking up, Peter is not especially hungry, his appetite still lacking. He's got half an hour to take a shower and do some catching up school work before the pizza delivery guy should be there. It's the third time this week they had pizza. Peter can't wait to be back at school and eat a plain tasting school lunch.

 

“So Happy will drop you off tomorrow and pick you up again right after classes end, so no hanging around. You are to go straight to the car, no detours. Got it?”

“But what about decathlon? Or hanging out with my friends?”

“Alright listen Peter, I want you going straight to the car after school. I don't want to keep you from your friends or anything. Happy will take you to the hospital to visit your aunt for an hour and then you will come back here.”

Peter would like to argue some more, but hanging out with Ned versus visiting his aunt. . . it's just something he doesn't even want to contemplate.

“Okay?”, Tony throws him a look. Slowly but surely Peter is learning how recognize these looks. This one means something like: Do we have an agreement?

“Yes Mr Sta- Tony.”

“Good. Now finish your pizza so we can go to the hospital.”

Peter has never eaten pizza so fast in his life.

 

His mind is troubled, restless.

Peter feels groggy and tired from the pain meds, but doesn't feel like he can shut off his mind to go to sleep yet. The visit to his aunt had been the same as every day before. She hadn't improved, had slightly gotten worse. It was only in tiny steps, however one day all these tiny steps would add up and it would be over. The feeling was ingrained in Peter's mind now, he couldn't deny it, couldn't cover it up. Accepting it was a different matter altogether.

Just now his mind wasn't troubled with his aunt however. It was troubled with the school day laying ahead. It had been nearly two months since he had left school so abruptly. Ned and MJ knew he would be returning tomorrow, as knew his teachers. He didn't know if Ned had told anyone that he was coming back though or if his teachers had said something.

Once there had been a girl in his class whose father had died of cancer and she had been missing for a week. The teachers had told all students that the girl's father had died and to be sympathetic. Peter had seen the looks most of the student body had thrown the girl once she had returned. Pity. Peter was sure that he wouldn't be able to bear it if he received the same looks from everyone at school. Or worse: if Flash made fun of him for it. Because to be honest, Peter didn't know if Flash could be sympathetic and keep his distance or if he was just a pompous idiot.

“Hey.”

All of a sudden the lights in his room turned on, blinding Peter for a second.

“Didn't we talk about bedtime?” Tony was standing in his doorways. He wore red pleated pyjama pants and a gray undershirt. His hair was tousled, an indention on his left cheek that could only be from a pillow.

“I am in bed!”, Peter exclaims, struggling to sit up. Tony's eyebrows draw together.

“How about. . . _shouldn't you be sleeping_?”

“I tried, I really did! I just. . . can't.”

Tony comes over to where Peter has finally managed to sit up in his bed. Stupid sling. He plumps down on the bed next to Peter's legs a serious look on his face.

“If there is anything you want to talk about-”, he starts only to be interrupted by Peter.

“N-No! Everything is fine! Just thinking!”

Tony doesn't reply with anything for a while. He just keeps looking at Peter as if assessing him. And maybe he his having a silent conversation with F.R.I.D.A.Y in his head, who knows?

“Peter. You can always come to talk to me. Now get back into bed, you have school tomorrow.”

With that Tony gets up to leave the room. As he reaches the door, the light slowly dims.

“Thanks Mr Stark. For everything.”

Tony doesn't turn around, simply closing the door behind him with a soft click. F.R.I.D.A.Y turns off the light completely, leaving Peter alone in the dark.

 

The alarm clock is too loud, too early.

To top it off, the alarm clock is not even something Peter can physically turn off by hitting a button. It's F.R.I.D.A.Y making a loud ringing noise just like his old alarm clock.

“Okay, okay, I'm up”, Peter groans from underneath the covers and almost immediately the shrill noise grows smaller. He struggles to sit up once more in the tangle that is his blanket and a sweater and some other stuff Peter seems to accumulate on his bed every day.

The actual alarm clock sitting on the bedside table reads 7:15 a.m. With a sigh Peter tumbles out of bed and grabs some clothing from the floor. Usually he likes it hanging neatly on a rack, but these days he simply can't be bothered to pick up discarded clothing. Mostly because leaning forward is still hurting his shoulder. He finds a sweater and a shirt quickly, but needs a few minutes to pull out a pair of jeans from underneath the bed. Aunt May would have had a fit by now if she had ever seen his room in a state like this. Tony however didn't really seem to care.

Peter made his way to the bathroom for a shower, stumbling back out twenty minutes later, hair still wet and desperately trying to put on the sling by himself. He seriously can't wait to be rid of that thing. By now Tony is awake in the kitchen, drinking his first cup of coffee and cooking the only thing he knows how to cook: scrambled eggs. Or what he calls an omelet.

“Need a hand?”, Tony asks him as he sees him struggling.

“Why do I still have to wear this?” Peter knows he is whining, but he doesn't really care.

“Because”, Tony starts as he adjust the sling around Peter's wrist. “You went off and got hit with a baseball bat and this is your punishment.” A quick quirk of the lips and Peter knows Tony is joking.

“One more week and you can take it off. Just don't get hit with a baseball bat again.”

The stove starts beeping insistently, making Tony hurry back to his omelet which by now will be slightly burned.

Peter sits down at the kitchen island with a sigh. There is a glass of juice and an only slightly burned piece of toast waiting for him already. Slowly Tony is getting better at being domestic. A plate of scrambled eggs is put down in front of him, Tony having given up on making an omelet at least. While Peter eats his breakfast slowly – his nerves are showing through a little – Tony leans against the kitchen counter, nursing his cup of coffee. He keeps his gaze locked on Peter, deep in thought. Usually Tony would be having his own breakfast, consisting of a piece of toast, right now. Or maybe the man had only ever eaten a piece of toast, because he already had had breakfast when Peter had gotten up around ten or so.

“So, I got you this.” Tony finally breaks the silence to put something down in front of Peter, retreating back to lean against the kitchen counter almost immediately. As if he is afraid of how Peter is going to react.

“What is it?”, Peter starts to ask before he sees the small plastic card lying in front of him. It can't be.

“Figured you needed some money to buy lunch at school. Or maybe a few new clothes. I would like that sweater back, thank you.”

Looking down at the sweater he put on, Peter realizes that it is the one Tony had actually lent to him a few days ago when he had been cold. It makes Peter flush in embarrassment.

“I-I'm sorry. . .”, he stutters and tries pulling the sweater off then and there, forgetting his sling once more.

“Alright, calm down. I didn't mean you had to give it to me now. Just don't keep it. Buy your own sweater.”, Tony tells him with a meaningful glance towards the plastic card on the kitchen island.

“I-I can't accept this Mr Stark.”

“Yes you can. Take it. Go crazy. Happy will pick you up in fifteen minutes.” With that Tony fills up his cup of coffee once more and leaves Peter alone at the kitchen island.

Peter can't believe it. Of course he knew that Tony was rich, very rich. Everybody knew that. But how he could simply put down a credit card in front of him and tell him to go crazy was just not something Peter could understand. Aunt May had given him pocket money every month and occasionally a little extra money. After Uncle Ben's death, money had been a little sparse, but they had still made it by. If Peter hadn't been bitten by the spider, he most likely would be a normal teenager now, working at a fast food restaurant to help his aunt with the rent and stuff. Alas Peter wasn't a normal teenager. Even if life was a little harder, strange at times really, he never wanted to be a normal teenager. His little trip going to Berlin – fighting Captain America of all people – it had made him realize how much he actually liked being Spider-Man. Which made Peter think about his suit. He hadn't seen it in a while. It had been in his backpack which he conveniently had left at the Morrison's, but Tony had seemed to pick up his stuff from there, so . . .

Most likely Tony had his suit somewhere in the workshop, might even be upgrading it again. Now that would be awesome.

“Happy is waiting downstairs with the car.”, F.R.I.D.A.Y announced.

Peter hadn't even finished his scrambled eggs. Shoving in a mouthful, he grabbed the now cold slice of toast and jogged to his room to pick up his backpack. He made another quick detour to the kitchen to shove another mouthful of scrambled eggs down his throat and at least place is plate near the sink. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the plastic card, still untouched, lying on the kitchen island. Although his conscience told him not to take it, Peter made a grab for it and shoved the card into his pockets.

 

For a while Peter simply watches the other kids. Entering the school building, waiting outside for friends, talking in little groups, doing last minute homework. On the one hand it feels good to be back here, on the other Peter is afraid of the reactions. He doesn't want people to stare, doesn't want to know how Liz must have felt after he had publicly announced her father to be the Vulture.

“Your first class starts in ten minutes”, Happy says calmly from the driver's seat. It's the first thing he has said in a while, leaving Peter to his own thoughts.

“Okay.”

“Don't you want to go in?”, a careful note in Happy's voice.

Peter doesn't reply, looking back out of the window. A few days ago he had wanted nothing more but to go back to school, to regain at least a bit of normalcy. But now. . .

There is a knock against the tinted window on the other side of him and Peter quickly snaps his head around to look. Happy is already rolling down the window to talk to whoever knocked against the window.

“Are you Happy? You're Happy right? This is so cool! Is Peter in there? Hey Peter?”

That excited voice can only belong to one. His guy in the chair, his best friend, Ned. Peter unbuckles his seatbelt, grabs his backpack and is out of the car in under ten seconds. Happy scrambles to exit the car as well, as Ned jogs around it to greet Peter. For a second Peter feels like he wants to hug Ned, but then they settle on their secret handshake, the thing a little hard to do with his left hand now, but Peter manages.

“I will be waiting here after school, no dawdling”, Happy tells him as Peter and Ned make their way towards the school building.

Ned is talking a mile a minute, not giving Peter any chance to reply in between. It's just like Peter remembers, it's in fact just how he likes it.

 

Of course they stare.

It doesn't sound like anyone really knows what happened, not even the teachers say anything, just welcoming him back and giving him some worksheets to catch up on. Peter can hear the other students whispering in the hallways, his sense high tuned and unable to drone them out. Ned doesn't leave his side once, always ushering him onwards if he stops to listen to others talk. Peter still catches bits of conversation here and there, mulling them over during algebra until his head starts to hurt.

His pocket is vibrating.

As he is not paying any attention anyways, Peter pulls out his phone to look at it underneath the table. Tony's name flashes on the screen.

 

11:41

How's it going buddy?

 

Peter quickly types a reply, but doesn't put his phone away just yet.

 

11:43

Shouldn't you be in class. Wait F.R.I.D.A.Y says you have algebra right now. Put your phone away!

 

This time Peter doesn't respond to the text, instead doing as Tony told him. The rest of the class goes by quicker after that. Somehow Peter's chest feels a little lighter.

 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Tony

 

It's 6:57 a.m. And Tony is rolling around in bed. He went to bed late that night, thinking about Peter going back to school. Even if school itself was a good thing – seriously the kid needed something to do with his free time – Tony couldn't help but worry about it. He had been ready to send Peter to a private school with the best teachers money could buy. Alas Peter had put his foot down on wanting to return to his old school. Midtown Tech wasn't exactly a bad school, Peter's chances of getting into MIT were looking a little better there than at other public schools, but a private school. . .

There was no use of thinking the matter through again. He had done that way too many times already. Instead he should be more concerned about the other students treating Peter. Having explicitly told the school not to reveal anything of the accidents to the student body, Tony couldn't help but be worried. Especially about this one kid called Flash. A ridiculous name in his opinion.

“It is 7 a.m. The skies are clear, snow is forecast for the late afternoon.” F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice rang pleasantly through the room. With a sigh Tony got up and wandered into his ensuite.

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y had informed him that Peter was up and getting ready in the bathroom. Tony went to the kitchen to prepare his first cup of coffee for the day and also make some breakfast for the kid. Too bad there was no breakfast delivery service in New York yet. At least not one that delivered the sort of breakfast he liked. Maybe he should build a breakfast making robot.

Peter came stumbling into the room, hair still wet – and in need of a cut – and wearing his sweater. Tony couldn't even remember giving it to the kid. Peter was clearly struggling to put his sling back on, his arm somehow getting entangled in the whole thing. Tony lent assistance quickly, the damned sling was supposed to come off next week and until then there could be no more accidents. His doctor had been clear after examining the shoulder last week. One more set back and it would need operation. And operation meant a much longer healing process. He doubted that Peter would stand for that even with his quicker healing abilities.

He had placed a piece of toast and a glass of juice on the kitchen island already while making his coffee. Slowly but surely Tony was getting better at not burning the toast. Something must be wrong with his toaster to not burn the toast. There was no way it was his fault the toast always got burned. Maybe he needed a new toaster.

Peter seemed to be in deep thought this morning, only snapping out of it when Tony placed a plate of his famous omelet in front of him. Who was he kidding. It was more like scrambled eggs. Slightly burned scrambled eggs. Peter starts eating then, slowly. He is still not back on his appetite, Tony notices, still a long way for Peter to go until he his back on a healthy weight after living out on the street.

“So, I got you this.” Tony is the first one to break the silence. He had wondered on how to best do this. Having ordered the credit card two weeks ago, Tony somehow hadn't been able to find the perfect moment to give it to Peter. But seeing Peter running around in the same shirts every few days, not even having a sweater with him, Tony had had enough. Now was as good as time as any. He got the credit card out of his jeans pockets and put it down in front of him. Quickly retreating back to his coffee which was safe. Who knew how Peter would take it.

“What is it?”, Peter asks uncertainly.

“Figured you needed some money to buy lunch at school. Or maybe a few new clothes. I would like that sweater back, thank you.” When Tony had given Peter the sweater he had simply grabbed one from his closet, not realizing that it was the one Pepper had given him last christmas. He knew that Peter wouldn't rip it or get it dirty on purpose, it was just something that actually meant a lot to Tony.

Almost immediately Peter flushes out of embarrassment, trying to pull the sweater off. Tony can see disaster happening, as he once again gets tangled in his sling.

“Alright, calm down. I didn't mean you had to give it to me now. Just don't keep it. Buy your own sweater.”

Peter's mouth opens and closes for a while, not a word coming out.

“I-I can't accept this Mr Stark.”

Now he is back to stuttering and calling him Mr Stark. Tony had noticed that it only ever happened when Peter was overwhelmed with things.

“Yes you can. Take it. Go crazy. Happy will pick you up in fifteen minutes.” Tony gets himself another cup of coffee and leaves the teenager alone to gape after him. That had gone very well in his opinion. Hopefully Peter would actually get himself some new clothes. Tony wasn't yet ready to clear out the Parker's apartment, not yet. He was still waiting on a reply.

 

It's midday and Tony is bored. There is no Peter around to call for his attention – not that the teenager did that much anyway – and nothing really to do. Pepper is busy leading his company, there is no need to contact Vision more than once a week on how everything is at the Avengers facility. Tony guesses that now is as good a time as any to call his lawyer. They still need an appointment to get Peter's statement from the day he was shot. And then there is the whole court issue thing. Damn. Now Tony has lost all willpower to do anything productive. Instead he goes on youtube to watch some cat videos. One of his favourite past-times.

Fifteen videos later, he figures he could send a quick text to Peter, just to see how he is doing. Almost immediately Peter sends a reply.

Tony starts typing “Shouldn't you be in class”, before pausing and addressing F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y show me Peter's timetable.”

The AI quickly pulls up a timetable on Tony's laptop. Right now Peter should be in algebra. One of his favourite classes. Tony remembers the day fondly he went to visit Peter the first time. Although he had been fighting with Steve then – still was – he remembered May opening the door. Remembered Peter talking about having a good day because he had had an algebra quiz and nailed it. Tony should have known that Peter was no normal teenager from that day on.

Tony finishes his text and waits a few minutes. This time there is no reply. He would love nothing more than to go back to his cat videos. Then again he should really start to sort through Peter's legal issues. That's why instead of hitting the play button, he dials his lawyer's number. Three rings later the man finally picks up. Maybe Tony should get a new lawyer.

“Mr Stark how may I help you today?” Polite slimy worm, is all Tony can think of as he hears the man's voice at the other end of the line.

“There are some legal issues that need to be addressed-”

“Oh yes, I got Mr Parker's files from Mr Murdock. And also his note on how the police department is waiting on him for a witness thing. Would you like me to make a date for that soon?”

If there is one thing Tony doesn't like its being interrupted.

“Yes. Preferably in the afternoon so Peter can still go to school. What are your thoughts on the other thing?”

As the lawyer starts talking, Tony can't help but push the play button after all. He can't bear this guy talking on and on and on and on. Doesn't he have to take a breath inbetween?

“. . . and that is how _I_ would do it. I will need to talk to Mr Parker about that of course. But otherwise I think it is a very solid strategy.”

“Yes. Fine. We can talk about the witness statement. Bye.” Tony hangs up before he has to listen to his lawyer any more.

Interesting, Tony thinks, so Murdock seemed to have dropped Peter's case after all.

 

Tony orders Indian food to be delivered around six. He doesn't know if Peter will like it, but Tony simply can't eat another slice of pizza. Seeing as Peter liked going to Thai restaurants with his aunt, Indian should be no problem. It's nearly five and Peter should be back any minute. Happy should have picked him up right after school and then driven him to the hospital, so that Peter could be with his aunt for an hour. Due to the rushhour they might actually take a little while longer to get back. So far Happy hadn't called him which in Tony's books meant that everything was fine, nothing had gone wrong. Or both his driver and protege had been abducted.

Tony had spend his day watching youtube and doing some unimportant stuff. Until he had gone through one of his drawers to find something – he couldn't even remember what exactly he had been looking for – and had stumbled upon the _phone_. He didn't remember taking it with him from the Avengers facility, but he must have in his hurry to get to New York. Tony had taken the phone out of the drawer and had opened it. The battery was only slowly depleting, there had been no new messages.

Steve.

Tony missed him. If there was one thing he didn't like to admit, it was that he had only a few friends, but these friends were important to him. Hell, Steve had been something like family, a cousin maybe. Someone he could hang out with, make fun of. Someone who had his back. Tony didn't exactly know where Steve was right now, he had a vague idea that he might not be so far from him, but he didn't want to see if he was right. Because if he was right, he had an obligation to report Steve. And Tony didn't know if he could do that. Despite everything.

He had put the phone back into the drawer then, had put some stuff on top of it and had spend the rest of the afternoon on a guilt trip.

“Boss Happy has just parked the car in the garage” F.R.I.D.A.Y informed him a quarter past five. Tony left his place in the workshop behind and went into the kitchen to greet Peter.

The teenager came stumbling in a minute later, the elevator doors closing behind him. No sight of Happy. Tony couldn't help himself and roamed Peter's body to see if there was anything wrong. The clothes looked a little rumpled, but that was normal for Peter who liked to wring his hands in his shirts. Hair was a little out of place. His face was a little pale, slight shadows forming under his eyes.

“How was school kid?”, Tony asks. Peter's face doesn't light up at the question as Tony had wanted it to, instead he sits down heavily at his customary place at the kitchen island. Tony puts down a glass of juice in front of him without saying a word.

“Good I guess. Nothing much happened.” Peter's voice was a little drawn, another thing adding to Tony's worry.

“Anyone give you trouble?”

“No, just tired”, Peter replies, attempting a smile at the end and not really succeeding.

Tony stares at him for a few moments, watches as Peter sips his glass of juice and pulls out his phone. Peter holds himself a little stiffly, too stiffly for Tony's tastes.

“How's the shoulder doing?” Tony hedges. He knows that Peter doesn't really like his pain meds, but there is a reason for him having to take them.

“Fine.”

One thing Peter can't do: lying. He sucks at it. Tony would smirk right now, if the teenager in front of him wasn't in pain.

“Alright. Time for your meds. You can do your homework afterwards. I ordered some food for six.”

“Oh come on”, Peter says, for once sounding like a true teenager. “Do I still have to take the meds? I don't need them anymore!”

Tony shakes his head and takes out the bottle of medication where he has stored it away in a kitchen cupboard. Taking out two pills, he places them in front of Peter.

Peter just stares at the pills for a few seconds before raising his head to look at Tony. Before his eyes can go into Bambi mode, Tony nips it in the bud.

“Now Peter.”

He only ever really calls the teenager Peter when it is serious and Peter knows that. With a sigh, followed by a grimace, Peter takes the two pills, emptying the glass of juice afterwards. Tony waits until Peter truly has swallowed, before backing off.

“Good. Go on do your homework, I will call you when dinner is here.”

 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Peter

 

“So are you coming back to decathlon?”

The question came out of nowhere, followed by a tray being put down next to him. Ned's mouth fell open. Peter looked up, only to see MJ sit down next to him. He had talked to her on the phone two more times since that first call. Had texted her almost daily. And now she was sitting down next to him. Next to him, like close to him, like right next to him. Peter could feel the heat entering his face, no doubt his whole face would be red within a second.

“I-I. . .”, he stutters not sure what to say.

“It's an easy question Peter.” _Peter_. She called him _Peter_. For once Ned was faster to answer than Peter, having regained his composure.

“Sure he is! Right Peter?”

“Uhm, yeah, I-I will have to talk to Tony about that. . . “, Peter trails of unsurely. Because Tony had made it very clear that morning that he wanted Peter back from school immediately with no after school activities whatsoever.

“You should do that. Flash sucks as your replacement”, MJ said. As if the conversation was over for her, she opened her customary book and began reading, quite obviously not interested in further conversation.

Peter's heart fluttered around weakly in his chest. Where did that feeling come from?

 

Just like Tony told him, Happy was waiting outside by the car.

The sky is heavy with dark gray clouds and Peter just knew it would be snowing later.

“How was school?”, Happy asks him as he holds the door open for Peter to clamber inside. To his annoyance Happy once again puts his seatbelt on for him, because Peter had trouble in the morning doing so himself due to his shoulder. It makes Peter feel exactly four years old and three feet big. It's embarrassing and just another reason adding to the long lists of reasons, why he can't bear wearing the stupid sling any longer. To top it off, it doesn't even feel like the sling is doing any good, as despite the stretches he has to do carefully every hour, his shoulder is sending off small spikes of pain with every movement. Pain, Peter knows will only grow in intensity the longer the day gets.

Happy pulls out of the school's parking lot, driving slowly through the streets of Queens. There is still some snow lying around that has frozen over during the night, and there is no way Happy is getting into an accident with Peter in the car, because he drove too fast. Usually one to drive like the devil, the ride feels like slow motion to Happy. Peter is keeping silent on the backseat, not even having answered Happy's earlier question how the school day had been. It doesn't look like there is anything wrong with Peter, so Happy doesn't investigate further.

Twenty minutes later, the car pulls up in front of the hospital.

Happy turns around to face Peter from the driver's seat.

“Alright, you go up to your aunt, I will park the car and go wait in the waiting room. You have one hour.”

Peter scrambles out of the car, leaving his backpack, and hurries into the hospital. A frosty wind has come up and blows his hair around. The hospital looks the same as always, except for the Christmas decorations that must have been newly put up this morning. When Peter had visited his aunt yesterday, there still had been a few leftover Thanksgiving decorations hanging around. Someone must have found the time to actually change the decorations now.

Peter politely greeted the nurses on his way upstairs, most of them used to his daily appearance by now. His aunt's room was empty of any visitors. One bed was now empty.

“Hey Aunt May”, Peter greeted his aunt. Her cheeks were sunk in and her skin pale. Peter was getting used to this appearance now. He simply took her hand in his like he always did and started talking about his school day.

“So today I went back to Midtown Tech. Ned was really excited to see me. No one gave me any trouble but there are all of those weird rumours flying around about me. Anyways, I had chilli for lunch which was awesome. I don't want to see either pizza or meatloaf for a loooong time. And you won't believe it, but MJ – you know Michelle – sat down next to me during lunch, and . . . “

Peter keeps on talking about his day for the whole visiting hours, not even taking a break to get a breather in. Somehow it is easier to just talk to her instead of wait for her to answer. Sometimes Peter fears he has already forgotten what Aunt May sounds like.

Happy comes to fetch him quietly when the hour is up. Part of Peter feels relieved that he can leave his aunt now. Another part of him feels guilty about leaving her and about his own thoughts. Peter feels ungrateful, his thoughts making him dirty somehow.

The car ride to Manhattan is quiet, Peter is lost in his thoughts. It started snowing slightly outside and Peter wishes that the snow would just wipe everything away. That it became a blanket, a perfect untouched white blanket on top of all the bad things in his life.

 

The pain meds make Peter sleepy and he has trouble going through his homework. Algebra is easy for him as is science, but some of the other subjects need a little more attention and he just isn't up to that. So instead of trying to do his best, Peter grabs his phone and sends a nonsensical text to Ned. Who in turn sends a gif a few minutes later. They keep on conversing like this until Peter is called to dinner by Tony.

When Peter opens his door to step into the kitchen, a heavenly smell wafts over to him. Tony had said he had ordered Indian, and Peter could feel his mouth water. That was a first in a long time.

Tony was laying out plates and cutlery when Peter stepped into the kitchen.

“Shoulder any better?”, Tony asks him, placing down the last fork and continuing with pouring a glass of juice for Peter.

“Yeah.” Peter settles down and waits for Tony to do the same. The man is busy opening a bottle of beer for himself, before sitting down on Peter's left side.

“So how was school today?”, Tony asks while piling some food on his plate. Peter always lets Tony choose first what he wants to eat, the man is paying for everything after all.

“Not so bad. So uhm, I was wondering uh if I could go back to decathlon? Maybe?” Peter hates how unsure his voice sounds, but this relationship is still too new for him to really now what is okay and what is not.

Tony doesn't reply for a long time – or at least it feels like a long time for Peter. Which makes his stomach start to knot in nerves. Maybe he shouldn't have asked after all? Tony did say he wanted him back after school right away. Just as Peter had made up his mind to row back from what he had said, Tony finally answered.

“Look, Peter, I think you should focus at one thing at a time here. Let's get you back on track in school first before tackling some other stuff. That actually includes Spider-Man.”

Peter's heart sinks. It's not that he really wanted to pick up Spider-Man just then, it's just. . . Spider-Man was part of him, an important part which he was missing from his every day life. Decathlon was different, it meant something to him, but wasn't part of him like Spider-Man.

“Let's finish dinner”, Tony suggests as Peter doesn't say anything.

The rest of dinner is more than a little tense, neither Peter nor Tony knowing what happened during their conversation to make it so.

 

It's the middle of the night and Peter is lying awake in his bed, thinking.

After dinner he tried going back to his homework and ultimately gave up, instead choosing to go to bed early and maybe catch enough sleep not to be tired the next morning. So much for his plan. The lights of New York were still blinking brightly, some part of the city still awake despite the late hour. Snow was still falling slowly. Peter could imagine being back in the apartment in Queens, lying in bed in a night such like this with Aunt May coming in to cover him with an additional blanket after their heating had failed. It was almost as if Peter could feel the touch of her hand on his shoulder. As he moved his hand to feel for himself, all he could feel was the fabric of his t-shirt and a slight spike of pain.

By this time next year Aunt May would probably be . . . Peter couldn't finish the thought. If he was honest with himself then he knew there was no more hope left. And that was something hard for him to take. Despite everything, even if the situation looked bleak and with no way out, Peter had always had something to hope for. Be it after a long day of being Spider-Man and not a soul saying any thanks to him or after a long day of school were things just didn't seem to go right and he was harassed by Flash. Hope had usually come in the form of Aunt May, a simple touch to his shoulder, a hug, a kiss to the cheek. Peter didn't only miss the physical contact, he missed hearing his aunt talk and walk around the flat, to see her trying a new recipe and failing, he missed hearing her swear and immediately apologize if Peter had overheard it.

At least Peter wasn't wholly alone anymore. He had Tony now, and despite slowly getting used to having the man – his idol – around, things still were too new, too fresh. Peter wanted to be able to trust Tony, but something kept him from doing so.

His alarm clock read 3:57 p.m.

Peter might just as well get up and try to finish his homework. If he kept on thinking then the slowly oncoming headache would only get worse.

 

Tuesday passed much like Monday had.

There were still whispers in the hallway, whispers even Ned couldn't keep him from overhearing. Peter's sense were tuned to eleven today, his head full of snippets he picked up on. Pain was pounding behind his eyes, making it hard to concentrate. Alas if he wanted to get back on decathlon team and going back to being Spider-Man, Peter knew he had to do his best.

It was a relief when the final bell of the day rang and Peter could trudge his way towards the parking lot where Happy would be waiting for him to bring him to the hospital.

Ned had gone off with MJ to decathlon practice already which left Peter to make his way to the parking lot on his own. The whispers of fellow students leaving for their cars followed him. Every conversation seemed to change topic as soon as he came into sight. Peter tried tuning them out, alas his senses wouldn't let him.

Happy was waiting in front of the car, opening the door for him when he arrived and once again buckling him in. The man did so without any comment. The drive was quiet, Happy not saying anything, the only sound being the radio tuned on lowly and the traffic around them.

Peter felt tired and worn out by the time they reached the hospital and he made his way to his aunt's room.

The bed that had been empty the day before was now occupied with a girl about his age. A woman who could only be her mother was sat on her side, answering Peter's greeting in a low voice as he stepped in. Peter closed the curtain around his aunt's bed quietly and sat down in his usual spot.

“Hey Aunt May”, he gave his customary greeting in a low voice. Since he usually was alone in the room, it felt weird to talk about his day with a stranger now there. He kept his voice low as he told his aunt about his day, about the things he had done and the homework he yet had to do.

Twenty minutes later and Peter's daily story was over. His aunt was lying motionless in her bed. She wouldn't be giving him any kind of response any time soon. The word 'never' came to his mind. Desperately trying to shake the thought away, Peter first thought it had been him moving his hand. Then his hand was squeezed again.

 

 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Tony

 

Happy's picture flashed on the screen of his phone and Tony scrambled to get to it. If Happy was calling something bad must have happened.

“Happy?”, Tony heard his own frantic voice.

“Tony, you need to come to the hospital, it's-”

Tony didn't even wait for Happy to finish that sentence.

 

Peter was inconsolable.

After having stormed into the waiting room of the hospital, Tony had been met with a crying Peter and obviously overwhelmed Happy. Quickly, Happy had handed the teenager over to him, trying to explain what had happened over the noise of Peter crying loudly on his shoulder.

Happy told him how Peter had run out of his aunt's room, shouting frantically for a nurse – anyone really – to come quickly. As his shouts had rang loud enough, Happy had also come running. May's hand had moved, Peter was sure of it. The doctor had taken one look at his aunt's chart, one look at the woman and had had to crush all of Peter's hopes at once. Aunt May wouldn't be waking up, it was simply her body moving, muscles spasming. The doctor had been quite frank with Peter and maybe that was why the teenager clung to him right now, bawling his eyes out. Tony had never been able to say it before, not as openly as the doctor had done. And something seemed to have broken inside of Peter, as if his last hope was gone.

“Yeah, alright. It's okay Peter” Tony tries consoling the devastated teenager, but no words seem to get through to him.

“Okay, Happy. Take him to the car, I need to have a word with that doctor.” Tony pushes Peter back into Happy's arms who starts leading him out of the waiting room. They garner a few more stares from the other people sitting in the waiting room, but none of the medical personal seem to take any notice of Peter's little outburst. They must be quite used to that by now. Walking up to the information desk, Aunt May's doctor his quickly procured. Tony throws him a look.

“And you are?”, the doctor has the gall to ask him as if he didn't know who he was. Pretty much everyone knew who he was by now!

“Tony Stark, legal guardian of Mr Parker. I would like to know what you said to him”, Tony's voice is cold.

“Alright Mr Stark. When Mr Parker asked for my opinion.” Tony snorts. “I simply told him that his aunt was not going to wake up and her muscles were simply flexing which is not a conscious movement by the way. I also asked him when we would turn off the machines.”

There it is. The whole reason why Peter was in such a distraught state. Tony sees red.

“You had no right to talk to a minor about this. If you want to discuss anything medical, you discuss it with me.”

“I'm afraid that won't be possible. The decision of turning off the machines can only be made by a family mem-”

“I. Don't. Care” Tony interrupts the doctor more than a little rudely. “You are fired. Get lost or I will sue you.” It's not an empty threat and the doctor actually pales before scrambling off. Tony tries to calm his pounding heart. He takes a second to breath in deeply like his therapist taught him and turns to the nurse behind the information desk.

“I'm sorry you had to hear that. Now where can I get a new doctor?”

 

Having arranged for another doctor to take over May's case, Tony made his way downstairs to the parking lot. Happy is standing outside of the car waiting for him, he cannot see Peter anywhere. Before he can say anything though, Happy interjects.

“He was sick on the way down here, couldn't get him to calm down and made him lie down in the car. I don't think he is going to quiet down any time soon.” Happy's face shows his worry, worry he seldom lets show.

“Let's get out of here.”

While Happy walks back to the drivers side, Tony opens the door for the back seat. A slightly sour smell meets his nose and he cannot help himself by pulling a face. However he has no time to comment on the smell that no doubt comes from Peter and him having thrown up. Peter is curled up tightly on the back seat, still crying although it is quiet now. Tony moves in next to him and closes the door.

Happy starts the car and they slowly pull out of the hospital's parking lot.

Tony is at his wits end with Peter. He carefully tries to pet his shoulder in a comforting gesture before he realizes it is the bad shoulder. So he has to sidle closer and actually put an arm around the teenager who doesn't even seem to realize it.

By the time they reach the penthouse, Tony can feel a headache building behind his eyes. Peter's face is tear- and snotstained, his eyes red rimmed and his cheeks flushed. At least he is not crying anymore and is able to get himself out of the car without any help. Tony sends Happy away for now, telling him that he will call him later. Once again putting an arm around his shoulders, Tony leads Peter upstairs to the penthouse.

That's not how Tony imagined Peter's second day of going back to school would end. Leading Peter to the living room once they had entered the penthouse, Tony doesn't really know what to do next. Clearly trying to talk to Peter right now would be futile. Leaving Peter alone was absolutely out of the question. Who knew what the teen would think off if left alone. He makes Peter sit down on the couch and is about to get a glass of water for him, when Peter speaks up.

“I-I'm sorry Mr Stark”, Peter sniffles unexpectedly.

Goddamn it.

Tony crouches down in front of Peter, ignoring the vomit on his shirt and trying to find some encouraging words in his head.

“Nothing to be sorry for kid”, is the only thing that comes to mind right then and there. Peter gives a little nod and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

“You know”, Tony has to clear his throat “I was meaning to talk to you about. . . about your aunt before. I know you are not stupid and must have figured some stuff out yourself, but I wanted to talk to you about, okay? That doctor had no right to talk to you about anything regarding May's health. He should have done that with me. Listen, Peter it's not over yet, alright? There is still -”

“Don't”, Peter interrupts him bruskly. “Don't tell me there is hope. Please just don't.” His eyes are filling up with tears again and Peter wipes them away angrily.

“Okay, whatever you want. Let's get you cleaned up. You up for dinner?”

Peter shakes his head as Tony leads him to the bathroom.

 

“Answer your phone, answer your phone”, Tony mumbles like a mantra under his breath. It's nearly eleven and he finally got Peter to calm down, take his pain meds – and after a call to his doctor one of Tony's anti-anxiety pills – and into bed. F.R.I.D.A.Y was closely monitoring Peter, having been told to immediately alert Tony if the teenager so much as turned around in bed.

“Answer your goddamn-”

“Hello?”

Tony hadn't even been able to finish his sentence as for once the phone had finally been picked up.

“Where were you?”, is the first thing that escapes his mouth. It's sounds more than a little accusing.

“Whoa, yeah nice to hear from you to. Actually it's kind of a funny story, don't really no where to start, but I kind of was in space with-”

Tony interrupts him before he can go on talking about whatever he did. May is more important right now.

“Listen Banner, I need your help ASAP. You got any internet, so I can send you the files?”

“Uh, yeah sure, send them”, there is a low noise at the other end of the line as Tony just send out the medical files of May.

“Okay, got them. Who is May Parker?”

“Long story. I need you to find something to cure her.” Tony doesn't know how much he can trust Bruce right now. The guy had vanished from earth right after Sokovia. Hell, Tony didn't even know if he knew about the Accords and on which side he was regarding them.

“Doesn't look easy Tony. You know I'm not that kind of a doctor.”

“I know it's not easy, but I got a bawling teenager on my hands and-”, Tony stops himself before he can reveal anything further.

Silence greets him from the other end of the line.

“We should talk. Talk about where I was, talk about this. . . bawling teenager of yours. Most of all we should talk about what happened between you and Steve”, Bruce's voice sounds serious. The usually kind doctor for once making his terms clear. If Tony wanted his help, then he would have to talk to him about everything. And it looked like Bruce already knew about his fallout with Steve. The question was, which side was he on?

 

“So new penthouse, huh? What happened to the tower?”

“Sold it finally”, Tony is tired. It's one in the morning and he just let Bruce in. He is in the kitchen making them some coffee, before they will retire to his workshop. They won't risk waking Peter there as it is the farthest room from Peter's room.

To be honest, Tony is a little antsy, maybe due to the stress or maybe because he doesn't really know where he is standing with Bruce.

“About the medical files. . .”, Bruce starts only to be interrupted by Tony.

“Not here, my bawling teenager is right there in this room and I don't want him to wake up. He has school tomorrow.” Tony pours two cups of coffee, sliding one to Bruce and showing him to his workshop. Bruce throws around a curious look before sitting down on the small couch Tony usually occupies for short power naps, while Tony sits down at his desk.

“You were saying?”

“Yes, the files. So I went through them and I don't think there is anything human medicine could do about the state of the woman. However, I might know something we could at least try. I will need a few days, maybe weeks to gather everything. If I hurry it might not be too late to at least try it.”

“How high is the chance of May waking up again?”, Tony cannot help but ask this. He is not going to let Peter in on any of this conversation, but he needs to know for his own conscience.

“At this point, I would say fifty-fifty. It's not something that has ever been tested on humans before. But we can try, if the family wants to.”

“The family wants to.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I should have a talk with them before-.”

Once again Tony is the one to interrupt Bruce.

“I'm kind of the family here. Not by blood, but I make the decisions.” Understanding dawns on Bruce's face.

“So your bawling teenager is what, the son of the comatose woman or what?”

“Nephew.”

“How do you know them anyhow? He is not your kid, right?”

Tony shakes his head. He knows what will be coming next, he just doesn't know how much he can reveal to Bruce. They used to be friends, working side by side in his workshop. Now he was gone for so long, without telling anyone where had been.

“Why are you doing it then?”, Bruce cannot help but ask. He is a scientist after all and this whole thing has spiked his interest.

“Obligation to the kid. Kind of took him under my wing. He. . . he is special.”

“Ah.”

Silence falls between the two of them. Tony slowly sips his cooling coffee, avoiding looking at Bruce. He knows that Bruce will want to talk about Steve and about everything that happened, but the thought alone makes a stone drop in his stomach.

“Have you talked to Steve recently?”, the question is worded carefully, Bruce's voice cautious.

“No. I guess you know what happened?”

“I talked to Steve a few days ago.” Nothing more. No revelation which side he was on.

“What about the Accords?”, Tony tries to steer the topic in another direction.

“I don't know yet. Tony, don't evade my questions. Steve said he had kept something from you but wouldn't tell me what it was. What could be so bad that the two of you have a fallout like that?”, Bruce voice is honest and concerned, his gaze tells it all. Tony can't help but cave.

 

 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Peter

 

His head feels heavy and Peter doesn't want to get up at all. The alarm clock is lying broken on the floor next to him, where he had accidentally knocked it off to. F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice is trying to tell him something, but he keeps his hands pressed over his ears even if it hurts his shoulder. Peter just can't get up today. How can he go back to school like nothing happened the day before? Ignore what he had left unspoken had been easy before, now that everything had been voiced by that doctor though. . . Peter could still hear the man's voice in his head. The bored tone of it as he had asked about when to turn off the machines. There hadn't even been a question about it for him. For the doctor it had been clear that Aunt May was a lost case, that she should make space for another patient. Her whole existence had sounded like it was a burden to the doctor, despite the man not even knowing her.

“Alright, time to get up sunshine.”

The blanket gets pulled off his head and Peter squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't want to be _there_ right now.

“Come on kid, time for school.” Tony's voice is muffled, the hand on his shoulder careful. Still Peter doesn't want to react, doesn't want to face the day.

“Peter.” Sterner now. “Peter, you need to get up.”

A sigh.

If Peter's senses hadn't been highstrung as they were, he might have never even heard that sigh.

“Go away.” His voice sounds muffled in his ears.

“I won't and you know it, come on.”

There is a tug on his hand, a quite insistent pulling until Peter can do nothing but give up his arm. “So now that is better, you can hear me now, yes? I know it's hard, I know you don't want to, but you are still going to school. This is non negotiable.”

As Peter tries turning his head away, burrowing further in his pillow. All attempts at vanishing are futile though.

Seemingly Tony has become fed up, grabbing Peter underneath his shoulders in one quick move and throwing him over his shoulder. It's a short walk before Peter is being let down in the bathroom.

“Go, take a shower, get ready for school. We will talk over breakfast.”

Peter is left alone in the bathroom, can hear the water flowing through the pipes and Tony muttering out in the hallway. “Damn, I sound like my father.”

 

Peter doesn't feel any better, fresh out of the shower, sitting at the kitchen island. Tony doesn't say a word, instead making up some bacon and eggs. His shoulders are tensed, his back turned to Peter the whole time he makes breakfast. There is no music playing, no fun remarks. The atmosphere is stifling and Peter feels like breathing is becoming harder every minute that ticks by.

A plate is placed down in front of him.

“So, we are going to have a discussion. You will eat your breakfast and you will listen to me. Do you understand Peter?” Tony's voice is serious. If Peter felt braver this moment he might make a snide comment about Tony sounding like his father. Alas he wasn't, he also wasn't that kind of teenager and never wanted to be like it.

“Yes.”

“Good. How are the eggs?” Tony veers off course to get Peter started on some food. The kid might look better, but he still isn't back on his old weight and already missed dinner the day before. Peter reluctantly starts to eat, not tasting much.

“Alright. Okay. Good. Discussion. I know yesterday was- no scratch that. What happened yesterday shouldn't have happened. That doctor had no right to talk to you like that and I fired him for it. Possibly going to sue him as well. You're still a minor. Anyway”, Tony clears his throat. “I was able to contact my friend who might be able to help May. He is not sure yet, he will need some equipment and even if he can get everything he needs there will still be a chance that it doesn't work. It hasn't been tested on humans before. So, what I'm trying to say here is, there is hope and I don't want you giving up. Can you do that for me Peter?”

Peter had kept silent the whole time. It takes some time for him to fully register what Tony just said.

“What do you mean? Not tested on humans?”, Peter's voice sounds suspiciously squeaky to his own ears.

“Long story. More important is if you can go to school today without breaking down like yesterday. Because that. . . that was unpleasant. I know it's hard, but you have to pull through and function Peter.”

“Sorry”, Peter mumbles under his breath. And he truly is, he never meant to show so much pain in front of Tony, in front of Happy, the other people in the waiting. . . anyone really.

“Yeah, well let's forget that little episode and concentrate on today. You will finish your breakfast, get dressed and go to school. Happy will pick you up from school no biggie.”

Peter nods along as Tony talks, he doesn't feel much like talking himself. It feels like there is a stone getting steadily heavier in his stomach. Maybe he shouldn't have eaten the eggs.

“You're getting a little green, uhm don't be sick. I-I will be in my workshop.” With that said Tony leaves Peter to his own devices. The teenager still doesn't feel top notch, doesn't really understand everything Tony had told him. Was his friend able to save his aunt or not? And what did 'not tested on humans' mean?

 

“You are awfully quiet today”, MJ sits down next to Peter during lunch. Ned had a chess club meeting and told him he would be there later. Alone with MJ Peter feels like he can open up at least a little despite being in public. There is no one at his table, no one within earshot to overhear anything compromising.

“Yeah, there was a setback at the hospital yesterday. . . so yeah.” The words feel heavy on his tongue. It's not like he wants to desperately voice them.

“You want to talk about it? My mom always says that it makes people feel better. But-”, MJ continues as she sees Peter's face “I don't think that's true. As long as you don't bottle everything up, I mean. So if you want to talk about it, let me know.”

“Okay. Thanks”, it's the only thing Peter can really say. He doesn't feel ready to talk about it, might not be for some time. Sadly there wouldn't be much time left if Tony's friend didn't succeed. Peter's thoughts hadn't been able to concentrate on anything else beside this sentence. He hadn't even been able to listen to his teacher in algebra. And he loved algebra!

“Are you not going to eat anything?”, MJ kept on bugging him. Somehow Peter didn't really mind, it was better than being on his own.

“Got a headache, so no.”

“A headache doesn't keep you from eating anything”, MJ comments. Peter just shrugs his shoulders in response. During the rest of lunch break Peter tunes out his friends, Ned joining MJ a few minutes later.

For the first time in a long time, Peter dreads going to the hospital after school.

 

“Uh Happy? This is not the way to the hospital?”

Happy throws Peter a look in the mirror, his eyes meeting his own for a second.

“We are not going to the hospital today Peter”, is all the man says before focusing back on driving through the slowly filling streets of New York. A part of Peter is ready to protest on not seeing his aunt today, another part is relieved. Although he doesn't mean to, the visits to his aunt have become a strain on him. He is always tense going there, his heart beating madly in his chest. It doesn't help to see her lying there in the same position every day, doesn't help that he can see her body deteriorating. Peter feels guilty admitting this to himself.

 

Tony is not at the penthouse when Peter arrives, Happy in tow. This is a first.

“I'm supposed to tell you to do your homework and order you your dinner. As long as you don't make any trouble you are free to do whatever you want to”, Happy tells him and sits down on the couch with a magazine in hand.

Being home – Peter cringes at the thought of recognizing the penthouse as his home – an hour earlier than usual, Peter feels like he should catch up on his school work. Maybe putting on some music and doing homework will keep his mind occupied from everything else. He didn't do any homework the day before anyway, none of his teacher's had said anything though. Maybe Tony had called the school to tell them about yesterday, or maybe he had left instructions for that before Peter had gotten back to school.

Peter changes into his pyjamas although it is not even five in the afternoon yet, and sits himself down in front of his desk. Since Tony isn't home and the week is nearly up anyway, he pulls off the sling, plugs his earphones in and starts on his English homework. He will start with the hard stuff first and move on to the easy things later. That way he will need his whole concentration right from the beginning and give his brain no time to actually think about anything else.

 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Tony

 

Tony gets back around eight. After Peter had gone to school in the morning, Tony had caught up on some much needed hours of sleep. Bruce had spent the better part of the night at the penthouse after all. It had taken some time for Tony to really digest what Bruce had told him. Although he had battled aliens in New York, knew that Thor was basically an alien, hearing Bruce talk about space had been. . . different. Bruce was human. A human in space among aliens. Tony could only shake his head on that idea.

When Tony had gotten up around eleven, he had quickly gotten ready and driven to the hospital. May had to be transferred to a private room and some doctors he could trust had needed to be arranged for. In the middle of organizing the whole shebang, the hospital's director had wanted to apologize to him directly about what had happened the day before. The doctor who had distressed Peter was now on suspension and would most likely be fired. Word had gotten out about Tony Stark firing a doctor. Some of it had been covered by the press, but mostly the press didn't have enough information to know what was really going on. Another good reason to get May in a private room, less chance of a reporter coming in and harassing visitors of the other patients in May's room. Tony had given Happy a quick call to let him know not to bring Peter to the hospital today and instead take him home directly. Then Tony had had a lengthy call with Pepper who was once again away on Stark Industries Business. A statement to the press might have to be made regarding the events of the day before, should the need arise. If the press couldn't get any more info, the whole story might just be dropped.

Now as Tony finally got home, he found the lights turned off and the whole flat eerily quiet.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Yes, sir?” the AI answered immediately.

“Turn on the lights. Also, is Peter home?”

As the lights started slowly brightening around him, Tony made his way towards the living room.

“Peter is home. He is in his room, studying.”

Tony nodded along, the first waves of panic vanishing now that he knew that Peter was in fact here and his room. That only left the question where Happy was. The man was supposed to babysit Peter after all.

Stepping into the now lit living-room, Tony found Happy napping on the couch, a magazine covering his slightly snoring face.

Tony feels tempted to wake the other man by taking the very magazine and hitting him over the head with it, but instead chooses not to.

“Have a good sleep?”, he asks calmly, waiting for any reaction. Happy might be a big lump of a man, but he was always one to wake up quickly. Now he startles awake, magazine sliding off his face.

“T-Tony?”

“Yeah, so kid got his dinner?” Tony already assumes that that will not be the case. Who knows how long Happy had been sleeping on his couch already.

“What time is it?”, Happy asks him confusedly, rubbing his eyes.

“After eight.”

“Uhm. . . “

“I get it. Go home, catch up on some sleep.” Tony leaves it at that, knowing that if he lets his temper show now, it will probably not go away. And he still has to talk to Peter. Making his way towards Peter's room, he leaves Happy to his own devices.

 

The light in Peter's room is dimly lid, the teenager is sitting at his table immersed in his homework. Tinny music is loudly blaring from the earphones in Peter's ears. Tony tries to announce himself, but the music is too loud and Peter doesn't notice him. Taking a step forward, Tony nearly slips on a discarded piece of clothing. Now that he is actually looking at the floor, he sees it littered with all kinds of stuff. Peter's room at the apartment in Queens had always been meticulously clean. How come this room was such a mess?

“Peter?”, Tony wades carefully towards the teenager, placing a hand softly on his shoulder as not to startled him. An attempt maid in vain. Peter nearly tumbles out of the chair in fright, a high pitched noise leaving his mouth. His eyes are big and wide as he stares up at Tony.

Tony motions for him to take out his earphones which Peter does after a second of fumbling.

“What do you want for dinner?” Tony decides on asking an easy question first. After that he might give Peter a tongue lashing for keeping his room in such a state.

“Uh, I-I don't really. . . “, Peter trails off.

“I will order some Thai then.” Nodding in agreement, Peter is about to put his earphones back in as Tony stops him.

“First of all, it is nice to see you doing your homework so diligently. But it would also be nice if you could clean up this mess. If you're clothing is dirty put it in the laundry basket, if not put it in your wardrobe. You can do that now. I want this room clean by the time the food arrives.”

Peter nods in consent, eyes wide and skin a little pale. Had Tony been to harsh just then, or. . .

“Where is your sling?” Wide eyes and pale skin add up to pain in Tony's head and there is only one thing that could be hurting Peter right now, his shoulder.

“I took it off. The shoulder is fine, your doctor said I could take it off by the end of the week, so. . .”

“By the end of the week, yes. It's Wednesday. You go and put it back on and I will go and get your meds and-”

“No.” Peter's voice is resolute.

“No?”, Tony can't mask his surprise, Peter seldom disagrees with him. “Peter, put the sling back on, take the meds. I'm not asking any more of you.”

“No.”

“Peter-”

“I won't. I don't need it anymore, so I won't put it back on. And I'm not taking the pain meds anymore either.”

As Tony stares at Peter, his mouth opening a little in astonishment, he quietly asks himself if this is a streak of teenage rebellion awakening in Peter or if it is part of his character that he simply keeps well hidden. There are two things Tony could do right now, he could either start up a fight with Peter – possibly ending up in a screaming match like he and his father were in more often or not – or he could take the easy way out and just back off. With everything that's happened today, Tony decides for the easy way out. He is tired and still has a ton of stuff to do.

“Clean up your room”, is all he says as he turns around and leaves the mess that is Peter's room behind him. There are more important things he has to deal with right now.

 

Peter's face is still pale during dinner. Usually not being a picky eater, Peter doesn't seem to have any appetite whatsoever once again. While Tony is happy to finally get a hot meal, Peter is playing around with the food on his plate. It doesn't look like the teenager has anything troubling on his mind, by now Tony can tell if they need to talk about something. The look Peter is sporting now is nothing he has ever seen before on the kid's face.

The atmosphere around them is heavy. Due to the argument they had not an hour ago or something different, Tony simply can't tell.

Although he wants to be open to Peter, tell him about the things he did today like moving his aunt into a private room, hiring a new doctor, he doesn't feel like he can talk about that right now.

Dinner passes without them exchanging a look, Peter not even lifting his eyes from his plate to look at him.

When Tony declares dinner to be over – Peter hadn't taken a bite in over five minutes – Peter quickly scrambles out of his seat. He cleans up after himself like he had always done and is about to vanish into his room.

“Did you clean up your room?”, Tony asks, because he doesn't know what else he could say to the teenager to break up the silence.

“Yes”, is all Peter says as he closes the door behind himself softly.

Tony doesn't know what's wrong with him today.

 

Although he is tired, Tony can't seem to close his eyes. F.R.I.D.A.Y tells him that Peter is in bed, sleeping soundly. Something else is nibbling at his mind then. There of course if worry about Peter, the pale face and wide eyes, as if he was hiding something from him. Then there is the whole issue about May. Things seem to build up. Tony feels like he is forgetting something.

“There is a call from Ms Potts, would you like me to put it through?” F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice sounds calmly

It's the middle of the night, so F.R.I.D.A.Y is on night time duty, including regulating his calls.

“Yes, let her through.” Tony picks up his cellphone and only has to wait a second before the screen lights up.

“Hello Honey”, he greets her.

“I'm sorry for calling so late, I'm on business in LA and-”

“It's fine. What's up?”

“My flight for New York is leaving tomorrow morning, I just wanted to know how everything is right now? How is Peter's aunt?”, Pepper, the ever concerned.

Tony takes a deep breath. Pepper was there when Peter had still been in the hospital, that was nearly three weeks ago. Somehow their relationship was always suffering from outside forces. Pepper hadn't wanted to intrude, had wanted Peter to settle down first before she made regular appearances, over night stays and such. Her asking about the situation now, was actually a question whether she would be able to swing by the penthouse or not.

“Not getting any better. I finally got a hold of Bruce, he is going to try something. Doesn't know if it will be any good though. At least he is going to try. If it doesn't work that's it.”

“Oh Tony. . .”

“That's just like it is.”

“How is Peter taking it?”

“Not good. But he will pull through somehow if worse comes to worse.” Tony doesn't truly know if Peter will though. It had been playing on his mind ever since the breakdown yesterday. Peter might act all tough and resilient. But inside he was still a kid, still needed protection. If May should die, Tony feared that Peter would break beyond repair. He couldn't let that happen.

“Let's just hope whatever Bruce is trying will work. Where was he anyway?”, Pepper's voice sounds sympathetic, but also curious. The disappearance of Bruce Banner had been a mystery to all of them after all.

“Long story, one he should tell you personally. Do you want to swing by tomorrow?”

Pepper takes in a slow breath, no doubt thinking about some excuse why she can't make it. She doesn't want to intrude after all.

“Look, before you say anything, I want you here. Peter likes you. I'm sure he would be happy to see you again.”

“Are you sure? I really don't want to impose on-”

“Pepper. I need you, alright?” That finally silences Pepper's protest. They agree upon Happy picking her up from the airport once her flight has landed and bringing her to the penthouse.

After hanging up, Tony feels at least a little better. His mind is still churning with thoughts, but thinking about Pepper being there tomorrow makes him actually smile. He misses her, will always miss her when she is not with him, the break they took showed him that Pepper was _the_ one. If there was anything like that. It was the only thing Tony was one hundred percent sure about. Life without Pepper was meaningless.

 

Peter looks better come breakfast. He still looks tired after a whole night of uninterrupted sleep, but at least his mood seems to have lifted. Greeting Tony with a weak smile, he plops down at the kitchen island. For once Tony was actually faster than him, Peter's breakfast already plated up and waiting for him. Tony is on his first cup of coffee, having not had much sleep after all,so it won't stay his last for the day.

“So, Pepper is swinging by tonight.” Tony doesn't know what to expect, a smiling Peter is a relief. The smile actually infectious as Tony feels his own mouth quirking up.

“Really? I haven't seen her in ages.” More like three weeks, but Tony is not going to correct that. Somehow Peter looks more alive at the prospect of seeing Pepper tonight. Maybe because Pepper partly took up the female role model in Peter's life. Peter is one of those kids that need both, father and mother in their life.

Silence descends between the two of them again. There is more Tony would like to say, more things that need to be addressed. But somehow this doesn't feel like the right moment to him. He lets Peter finish his breakfast while nursing his cup of coffee, then watches the teenager leave for school. He still holds his shoulder a little stiffly, then again there is nothing Tony could say to him that will make Peter change his mind about the sling.

With a sigh, Tony refills his cup and searches for the strength to tackle the day.

 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Peter

 

He can still feel the pain behind his eyes, it is not as bad as it was the day before but still there. Peter tries to tune out everything, instead focusing on the teacher and what they are saying. Taking notes hurts, his shoulder not used to the freedom of movement just yet. It will get better, he tells himself, and at least there is hope in something.

Ned had texted him that morning, telling him he had the flu and would most likely be back on Monday. That meant Peter would be alone for two days. School never was bad when he had his friend around, now it felt like he had become vulnerable. There was no Ned-sized shield that could keep the bad stuff at bay. Of course there was MJ, but he only ever sat close to her during lunch. As she preferred sitting in the back during class and he was usually closer up to the front, they didn't interact much during class at all.

During lunch break, Peter has his music plugged in and stares at his biology textbook. It's not that he needs to study any more for the pop quiz they will have today, it's just that he doesn't want to sit at a table and do _nothing_. Food doesn't look appealing to him right now, his stomach still full from breakfast. He doesn't see MJ during lunch break, being left alone.

By the end of the day Peter feels like he is invisible, no one spoke to him that day. Only his teachers when they called on him and then it was only a few sentences. Flash didn't even bother him. So far the day makes him feel tired, makes him trudge his way outside to the parking lot where Happy is waiting in front of the car like he always does. Even Pepper's upcoming visit can't lift his spirits right now. Peter doesn't know what's wrong with him today. He feels like he could just crawl to bed and fall asleep for a straight ten hours, if not more.

 

The penthouse looks cleaner than usual and Peter feels bad walking on the gleaming floor in his old sneakers and worn out clothes. He's been wearing the same set of clothes for weeks now and he feels a longing to get his hands on any other type of clothing really. He still has some stuff back at the apartment, the apartment which Tony is still paying the rent for, which might just as well be a total waste of money. Tony is neither in the kitchen nor in the living-room as Peter comes in, something that suits him just fine. It's not like he doesn't like Tony, it's just that he wants to be alone for a while. Maybe wrap his head around everything, or at least try to do so. A small part of him knows that it will most likely be futile.

Dropping his backpack by the door, Peter falls face first on his bed, not even bothering to take of his shoes. His body is heavy and tired, the headache back. The only thing he wants to right now is take a nap.

“Boss wants to see you in the workshop”, F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice announces, cutting through the light doze Peter had been falling into. “Oh, come on”, Peter mumbles into his pillow.

“You have five minutes”, the AI underlines. With a grumble and a slight spike of pain from his shoulder, Peter rolls out of bed, finally toeing of his shoes, and makes his way towards Tony's workshop.

Having been at the penthouse for nearly a month now, Peter had never actually been there, had only seen Tony vanish in there a few times a day. Once the thought alone of the workshop would have enticed him, now it was just another room for him.

“You wanted to see me?”, Peter steps inside the workshop without knocking. Maybe he should have knocked seeing as there is a guest present.

“Peter”, Tony turns around to face him, revealing the man sitting on the gray couch.

“U-Uh.”

“Peter, I'm sure you have heard of Doctor Bruce Banner before?”

Peter nods shyly. He might not be the biggest science geek, but he has read some of Dr Banners work before, especially after he knew that the man was the Hulk.

“So, Bruce Peter. Peter Bruce.”

“It's nice to finally meet you Peter. Tony has told me a lot about you.” The dark haired man smiles at him while Peter can do nothing but look dumbfounded.

“Come on and sit down, we need to talk to you”, Tony's voice sounds serious, although his face is a relaxed mask. Could Dr Banner be the one who is supposed to help his aunt?, Peter wonders. Reluctantly Peter steps towards Tony's desk, opting to lean against the table instead of sitting down on the gray couch. He doesn't want to be rude or anything, but he feels like he might not like the conversation and if that case came to be true, he would rather be standing and fleeing swiftly.

Tony raises his eyebrow at him, but doesn't say anything.

“So, I had a look at your aunt's file. And there might be something I could do, Tony said he told you a bit about already, right?”

Peter still can't believe that the Hulk is sitting in front of him, talking about his aunt's medical file. As Peter is not likely to give a reply anytime soon judging by the still slightly bewildered look on his face, Bruce simply keeps on talking.

“You see there is this experimental medicine I have tried myself, that might be used on your aunt. Since it's experimental it will be hard to acquire it, I have some people I will have to contact for it. Thankfully most of them are quick at responding. If all goes well I should have everything by next Wednesday. But there are some risks we should talk about first, before I do anything.”

“She's dying anyway.” Tony turns to stare at him incredulously. Peter can't quite believe he said it either. The thought had been playing on his mind constantly, but voicing it so openly wasn't something that he would usually do.

Dr Banner's gaze is sympathetic. While Tony seems to flumber for words.

“Her death might be quicker if the method doesn't work.”

Ah, thinks Peter, so this is what is all about. Next Wednesday his aunt could be dead. A lump settles in his throat, he can feel his body shutting down, it's become a coping mechanism for him to shut every noise out.

He can see Dr Banner talking, the doctor's mouth moving, but not a sound filters through to Peter. There is this high pitched noise in his ears, the only thing that he can hear. He stares at Dr Banner, notices the creases in the man's shirt, the wrinkles on his face, every small detail comes flying towards him.

Peter doesn't know how much time passes, he feels the ever so slight movements of the building underneath his feet, feels the air move in the room as Dr Banner and Tony move. A hand clapped on his shoulder is all Peter needs to be back in the present. Everything is brighter somehow, the noise deafening.

“I will see Bruce to the door”, Tony tells him, his face a mask that can't quite hide his worry for Peter. With a soft goodbye to the doctor, Peter is left alone in Tony's workshop. He can hear the faint voices of the two men as they make their way towards the entrance. Peter feels like he should do something, anything than stand around in the workshop. There is going to be a lecture, he already knows this. With a sigh, Peter tries to straighten, but something is pulling him back. A loose thread of his pants got stuck in one of the desks drawers. Peter tries to disentangle it with no luck, then choosing to simply snap it. It's not his fault that the drawer opens due to his heavy tagging. The drawer is empty besides an old flip phone. Although Peter knows it is wrong, he can't help but reach for the flip phone. Why would Tony keep something like this in his drawer? It's a plain flip phone that doesn't even look used. Flipping it open, Peter is met with a light blue screen. There are no missed messages or calls, the phone looks like it is purely unused.

“Put it down”, Tony's voice sounds harsh from the doorway, startling Peter. He nearly drops the phone were it not for his quick reflexes. He flips the phone shut and puts it back into the drawer. By then Tony's face is angry.

“You are never to touch that ever again. Do you hear me?”

Peter nods, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“Go, do your homework. Pepper should be here within an hour.”

Tony looks wary, tired. Peter quickly scrambles past the man, back to the safety of his own room.

 

This morning Peter had been excited to see Pepper again, having started to like the woman during his stay at the hospital. Now, he wasn't quite so sure about it anymore. Once he had scrambled back to his room, he had started doing his homework, lest his mind should think of anything else. It was not the possibility of his aunt's death next week that kept his mind occupied, but the flip phone. The stupid flip phone. Why would a man like Tony keep something so ancient technology wise in his drawer? And it was new to top it off. No matter how hard Peter tried to concentrate on his english essay, his mind kept coming back to the phone, brand new phone, unused phone.

“Ms Potts has arrived, you are to go to the kitchen now.” F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice once again pulls him out of his thoughts. Peter stops doodling on the side of his homework and makes his way towards the kitchen.

Pepper's presence is like the sun breaking through a sky heavy with clouds. The whole atmosphere has shifted. She is dressed in a nice skirt and blouse, but already got rid of her heels. Throwing a glance in Tony's direction, he can see that the other man is besotted, the love for Pepper clearly written on his face. _A match made in heaven_ , comes to Peter's mind. Tony can't be without this woman, he might have his work, his tinkering projects and the Avengers, but this woman means everything to him. Peter keeps the ugly thought that is trying to come up, locked away. He doesn't know where they come from, but in the past few days these thoughts have been popping up a lot more. It's not like him at all to think badly about others. It's not something he wants to start doing now.

“Oh Peter”, Pepper greets him with a smile and a warm hug. Peter hadn't even known that he was cold, the hug makes him feel better instantly.

“How are you doing? It's good to see you looking better than the last time.” The last time he had seen Pepper had been at the hospital, Peter knew he had definitely not been looking good back then. “Okay.”

“Of course. Now I was just about to have a word with Tony. You haven't decorated anything yet!”

Tony and Peter throw each other a look, they have absolutely no idea what Pepper is talking about. Decorating?

“You two are helpless!”, Pepper cries out in, rolling her eyes. “It's Christmas in two weeks?”

Peter feels his eyes go wide. After the accident, he hadn't really been paying attention to time, especially not when he had been living on the street. Then he had got shot, the time in the hospital a little blurry due to the medication they had given him. It couldn't be Christmas already. Christmas meant that Aunt May had been in a coma for over two months. That couldn't be right.

“Alright Pepper. We've been a little busy, too busy for Christmas”, Tony clears his throat, throwing another look in Peter's direction. “We still have plenty of time to decorate, but I don't think we will celebrate at all.”

Of course Tony wouldn't really want to celebrate Christmas, after his parents' death it had become kind of a touchy subject for him. He had always enjoyed Christmas with Pepper, but right now there was still too much to do, to figure out. If the procedure next week failed, then Peter would be in mourning come Christmas. And that was the exact same thing Peter thought of. He used to love Christmas, but now it simply didn't matter.

Either Pepper was oblivious or she didn't want to hear anything more about the matter. They were having a Christmas tree at least.

 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Peter

 

It's Saturday and Peter wants to do nothing more but relax and be left alone. He did all of his homework the day before while Tony had been roped into decorating a Christmas tree in the living room with Pepper. Homework had been his excuse to not participate in the event. For one even thinking about a jolly Christmas without his aunt made his stomach grow queasy. Secondly he would feel like intruding on the couple. Despite his grumbling, Tony was sure to be rewarded in loving touches for his efforts by Pepper. And that was something Peter definitely couldn't stand right now. He had been allowed to visit his aunt the day before, now moved into a private room. Her hands had felt colder to him, her face had looked paler. The thought of her dead body had occupied Peter's dreams the whole night, making him toss and turn.

In the dead of the night his ugly thoughts had resurfaced.

Once his aunt was dead, a burden would be lifted. He could go back to a – at least partly – normal life. Everything would be better once she was dead and buried and Peter didn't have to see her wasting away anymore. Some part of him seemed to have decided, that at this stage May's death would be a welcome solution to all of his problems. Peter hated himself for thinking this way. He loved his aunt, dearly. His heart felt constricted whenever he thought about losing her after he had lost his uncle. But his head seemed to have a different opinion on the matter.

By the time F.R.I.D.A.Y automatically pulls his curtains to the side, Peter is lying in bed with a queasy stomach and a headache.

If it was up to him, he wouldn't leave his bed today at all. Sadly it is not. Tony had told him that he would have to go to the police station today to give his statement. Although it had been weeks since he had gotten into the accident and been shot, the police still needed his statement as it looked like Tony wanted to give the guy who had shot him hell. He hadn't said anything like that, but Peter felt like this was something Tony would be willing to do. Just like Tony was quietly paying all of the hospital bills.

“Boss wants you to be ready in twenty minutes. You have a breakfast appointment.”

Peter can only groan into his pillow. He's not hungry, and he doesn't want to get up at all. It's another one of those days where he simply wants to keep lying in the bed, huddling under his blanket. After he had become Spider-Man, Peter had usually spend his weekends on patrol, enjoying the freedom of moving around Queens, helping people. Now all he wanted was to hide.

“You have fifteen minutes to get ready Peter.”

It's not an option to pull the blanket over his head this time, not an option to ignore the day, even if that is the only thing Peter wants to do. Reluctantly getting up, Peter once again picks up clothing he left on his floor and makes his way towards the bathroom. Tony is in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, immaculately dressed in a suit. He is reading something on the Starkpad, his glasses reflecting whatever he is looking at.

“Twelve minutes, buddy”, Tony tells him without looking up. It's not like Peter will need more than five minutes to get ready.

 

“I told you to use the credit card”, Tony admonishes him once they actually sit in the car, nearly twenty minutes late. After having come out of the shower, Tony had thrown him one look and told him to change. He had to look respectable when going to the police station, not like a teenager who had slept in his clothes. Tony had made him change, and then change once more. It was not like Peter had that many clothes to change into. In the end he wore one of his own pair of trousers that wasn't as creased as the other two, and a sweater belonging to Tony that had shrunk during washing and Tony hadn't been bothered to throw away.

“I don't want to”, Peter answers petulantly, remembering the clothes he still has back at the apartment. He definitely misses his science shirts. But he also doesn't want to spend any more of the man's money. May's hospital bills are sure to be piling up, the same as the rent for the apartment. Not to forget the food he pays for Peter now and all of the other stuff. Peter is pretty damn sure that he also has a footlong hospital bill somewhere. No doubt being paid by Tony.

“Do you want me to buy your stuff? Because I totally can. You want pink underwear? I can make that happen.”

Peter throws Tony an incredulous look. Although his tone was light, his face tells him that Tony is not joking.

“Fine”, he complies, turning his head around to stare out of the tinted window.

“Peter”, Tony sighs. And Peter knows what will be coming then, a lecture or heart to heart talk or something alike.

“You can't keep wearing the same clothes over and over again. And honestly wearing sneakers during this weather is unadvisable.” The snow has slowly been piling up, keeping the temperature outside frosty and cold.

“We either go back to the apartment and get your stuff or we buy something new. It's up to you.”

And that is exactly what Peter doesn't want, he doesn't want to make any kind of decisions right now. Going back to the apartment would feel like giving it up, giving his aunt up and he is doing that way too much already. He presses his lips close together and hopes that Tony will keep him alone for the rest of the ride.

 

Tony's lawyer is a sleek middle aged guy who Peter somehow doesn't like from the moment he meets the man. Being used to his employer being late, the lawyer greets them with a controlled polite smile. He shakes first Tony's and then Peter's hand, before sitting back down at the table. They are in some kind of fancy restaurant which makes Peter feel out of place almost immediately. His sneakers are definitely a no go here. Hopefully no one will notice them.

They are not even there for more than two minutes when waiters start bringing their breakfast. There is toast and croissants, bacon, eggs and literally everything that makes a breakfast good in Peter's opinion. Too bad he has no appetite at all. He would much rather get this whole thing over with, make his statement with the police and then huddle under his blanket for the rest of the day. Tony opts on polite small talk while filling his plate, the lawyer doing the same. Peter's hands start trembling nervously in his lap. There are way too many uncomfortable things around him. Even if he was hungry, Peter wasn't sure if his table manners were good enough for a costly restaurant like this one. A few tables over a woman was sitting in a fur coat drinking champagne and eating strawberries.

“Peter?”

Snapping his head around, Peter faces the lawyer who seems like he must have asked him a question that he had overheard. He looked a little miffed.

“W-What was the question?”

“Could you tell me about what happened in the alley? We need to work on making this a good statement.”

Peter throws Tony a look as it feels like the lawyer left something out.

“He means making it bulletproof so that they can't suspect you or call you in or anything. Just start at what happened, try to be as detailed as you can.” Tony's smile is encouraging, although his face looks drawn already.

“U-Uhm I was in this alley . . . “

 

 

The police station is the same as it was before. It's loud and noisy, filled with people who are either police officers or criminals. A handful of lawyers passes them. It's nearing eleven and Peter's stomach is knotted in nerves. They spent two hours at the restaurant figuring out his statement, if there were things he shouldn't say, or things he could say better. Although it had only been about a month ago, Peter didn't remember much about it. He clearly remembered being shot, remembered the woman coming to his rescue. Having totally forgotten about her, he had asked the lawyer if he knew about the woman. The lawyer knew something at least, but Tony quietly shook his head in the man's direction, warning him not so say anymore. It's not like Peter wanted anything from her. He simply wanted to thank her for calling the ambulance and staying with him until it arrived.

That's when he saw him. He was just coming out of an interrogation room, a red scarf tied loosely around his neck, white stick in hand. Mr Murdock. Peter quickly turned his head down, avoiding the man's gaze. Even though the man was blind, Peter felt like he had his attention. He knew he had his attention as Mr Murdock greeted Tony.

“Mr Stark.” His voice was calm like it always seemed to be.

“Mr Murdock.” Tony's greeting back was controlled, cold even. Something must have happened between the two men, something Peter didn't know about.

“How are you doing Peter?”, his voice was kind. It didn't sound like he was angry about Peter ditching him. Oh God, didn't he owe the man his bail, a salary?

“He is doing good, now if you would excuse us.” Tony's hand settled on his shoulder, pulling him forward. Throwing back a glance over his shoulder, Peter found Mr Murdock looking after them, his head cocked to the side.

“T-Tony, he- I mean Mr Murdock, he paid my bail”, Peter quietly mumbles, stumbling over his own words. Tony seems to have understood him despite the stuttering and quiet voice though.

“I know. Don't worry about it, I took care of it.” Which Peter knew was code for: I paid it. Just another thing to add to the amount of money Peter owed Tony.

 

Even though they have worked on what Peter is going to say during his statement, he can't keep himself from stammering. Something which the recording and those listening to it, might identify as nervousness due to lying. Which could get him into court. Tony is allowed to be present during the statement since Peter is not yet of age, the agitation the older man is showing, makes Peter even more nervous. He is stumbling over his words, breaking out into a sweat. The lawyer his shaking his head ever so slightly in despair. The police officer is the only one who seems to be able to keep her calm.

It takes Peter nearly an hour to give his statement and answer some questions. Since he can't really remember that much about the incident anymore due to the shock he had after being shot, the police officer let's them go without another word. Although they have his statement now, Peter can't help but feel like he failed. Because of him Tony is more than stressed out. He is giving everyone trouble. While the adults talk to the police officer on the case, Peter is made to sit down in the hallway which also seems to serve as a small waiting area.

It's not like Peter is looking out for trouble, trouble seems to find its way to him. He simply can't help himself as he sees the police officer who he had pushed away after the robbery. As he never got to apologize for his behaviour in his mind it is high time to do so. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter knows that she filed charges against him that is still pending and therefore shouldn't approach her. Still he does.

“Excuse me?”

The police officer turns around to him. She looks overworked, Peter can't help but notice. Instant recognition flits over her face. Before she can say anything though, Peter starts talking.

“I'm so sorry for what I did. I never did something like this before and. . . “, he keeps on talking, apologizing to the woman who doesn't even get a word in. Then there is a hand on his shoulder, another over his mouth, muffling his voice.

“I'm sorry for his behaviour. Excuse us.” It's Tony who is now pulling him backwards, still in a secure grip. The lawyer is looking at Peter in exasperation.

 

Once in the car, Peter gets a good tongue lashing. When the lawyer had tried saying anything, Tony had quickly nipped it in the bud. Now the two of them were sat alone in the car, Happy had put the divider up to give them some privacy.

“Never, ever do that again. You can't just walk up to the person who filed charges against you. They will treat that as harassment in front of a court!” Although Tony's voice is angry, Peter can also hear how tired he his. Tony keeps on talking, his voice steadily rising a pitch, until his voice is really loud near to screaming. Peter doesn't know how to react to any of this. One part of him feels like he should be lashing out, should tell Tony what he thinks. Another part of him wants to cower away, sink back into the seat and vanish in it.

Tony ends his tirade with a sigh and a “I sound like my father”. Peter doesn't say anything to that. He knows that Tony's father must have been a strict man next to being a genius, but that is all he really knows about Howard Stark. It's not like Tony ever talks fondly of the man in his presence. Happy stops the car in the garage, turning off the engine. Before Peter clambers out, he chances a glance at Tony.

“I'm sorry”, he mutters, climbing out of the car and closing the door. Before the door is closed behind him, he can hear Tony mutter once more.

“I know, kid.”

 

They didn't eat anything for lunch and it's not like Peter wants anything at all. He is lying on his bed, back in his pyjamas and texting with Ned. He has a Spanish Quiz on Monday and instead of studying for it, he is talking about the newest Lego set with Ned. His friend is pretty sure he is going to get it for Christmas and they start making plans on when to assemble it together. Having this conversation, lying in bed, it all feels weirdly normal for Peter. Like nothing bad ever happened to him. Of course it's only if he ignores that he is not in his own bed back at the apartment in Queens and Aunt May is not making something 'delicious' in their own kitchen. Still, it's a piece of normalcy that frankly, Peter needed right now.

Until Tony barges in without announcing himself by a knock first.

“What are you doing? Why are you wearing your pyjamas?” Tony looks better now as if he finally found time to relax in the two hours they have been back at the penthouse.

“Uh. . .”

“Two options, you either get dressed and we actually go out to buy you new clothing or we order online. But you are no longer moping around in your three shirts and two pairs of pants.”

“Tony, I-”

“No. We do this now Peter. Think of what your aunt will say when she sees you like that.”

When. Not if. As if Tony had faith that everything would be alright, that his aunt wouldn't die because of the procedure. Peter is stunned into silence. How can a man who had only known her for a few months believe in his aunt pulling through and he himself who has lived with her for a good ten years can't? Guilt sweeps over Peter once more, the feeling of normalcy being leeched of him. Before he can let his thoughts go grim however, Tony is there, pulling him out of bed. Even without the Ironman suit the man has some impressive strength.

“Come on kid, time to do some shopping!”

“Tony, I really don't need-”

“Peter.” There it is again. That tone of voice Tony only ever seems to use when he is exasperated with Peter, when he wants to talk about serious stuff. Peter gulps.

“I know you don't want anything. By now you should have realized that it's okay for you to want things, and that it's okay for me to provide them for you. We're in this together, alright? Temporary guardianship doesn't mean that I put a roof over your head and leave you to your own devices. And before this gets sappy, get up and we will do some online shopping.”

It's not like Peter can say no to that. Although he feels like the list of money he owes the man is ever growing.

 


	20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Tony

 

“How are you doing Tony?” It's a simple question from her side, but nonetheless one that makes Tony sag in his place on the couch. He knows Pepper is there for him, knows he can trust her with everything and that means everything. She knows him better than he knows himself sometimes.

“Holding up.” What better description than this?

“It's a lot you're going through. Peter must be a handful, I mean he-”

“He doesn't mean to, but yes. He is a handful right now. It's just so hard on him. Everything that's happened. And I try to make it easier for him but. . .” Tony's voice falters.

“You don't know how?”, Pepper's voice is encouraging.

Tony cards his hand through his hair in thought before replying.

“It's not like my dad was there for me. And I'm trying to be there for Peter, to be better than my dad. It's just hard figuring out this whole. . .”

“Parent thing?”

“ _Guardianship thing_.”

Pepper doesn't go back on his correction. Before their separation – and their eventual getting back together – there had been talk about kids. It had been hard, simply because they both were toeing around the subject. Pepper wanted kids, part of Tony wanted them too, but another part feared that he wouldn't be good enough, that their kid could be a target for who knows what. It had been one of the reasons they had agreed on a break in their relationship. So that Tony could come to terms with Pepper's idea of a future together as a family.

“I don't think it's easy for Peter either. He seems to be taking it hard.”

“He is. I know he is. Although he doesn't want to talk about it. He's given up hope already and I think that's- that's the worst thing about this situation.”

“It's hard to imagine what he must be going through right now. . .but I think it's a good thing that you are here after all. If I imagine him back out on the streets again. . . the things that could have happened to him out there. Besides getting robbed and shot of course.”

“I just want to him to be better.”

“I know. And you will help him get better eventually. No matter what happens to his aunt. If you stay by his side, then he will get better. I'm sure of it.”

Tony wished he had as much conviction as Pepper on the matter.

 

It's not like they meant to forget about it. Accidents happen after all. Tony is not sure Peter kept track of the date after his aunt's accident, especially not after living out on the streets for a bit. So it's not like they totally forgot about Christmas, the whole thing was just buried under piles of more important thoughts in their heads. And then there is people like Pepper who thrive on holidays, love decorating and spending time with their families and everything that goes with it.

Pepper is the one buying a tree and making Happy lug it upstairs to the penthouse. She is the one buying new christmas decorations and insisting on decorating it together. At which point Peter seems to drop out fully. Tony can't help but notice the barely concealed look of sadness on the teenager's face as he straightens the tree out once more and Pepper is starting to unpack the decorations. He hastily excuses himself with homework, hiding away in his room for three hours until Tony calls him out for dinner. It's three hours Tony spends time with Pepper were he feels relatively carefree. The worry of meeting the lawyer the next day, giving the statement at the police station seem far away.

It's him fooling around with Pepper, spraying each other with glitter, wearing tinsel around their necks. . .just like the christmases they had spend together before. A very small part of him is feeling bad for Peter fleeing the scene like that. For Peter not being included in this whole thing. He is only in it grudgingly himself, but still makes the best out of it.

By the end, Pepper and him are sitting in front of the couch, each sipping from a glass of wine. Tony might be careful with his alcohol, especially now with Peter around, but he values the one glass occasionally.

“Have you talked about presents with Peter?” Although Pepper certainly knows the answer, she can't seem to help herself asking the question.

“I don't think it's something Peter wants to talk about right now”, Tony sighs. After the fun is over, real life if quickly catching up again.

“Maybe he needs the distraction?” It's only a soft suggestion, alas Tony knows Peter enough by now to know that it is not what the teenager could possibly want.

“If worst comes to worst, I don't think Peter will want to celebrate a holiday a week after his aunt's death.” There. He said it.

“Just because-”, Pepper stops herself before she sticks her foot in her mouth. Nevertheless Tony knows what she was about to say. When his parents had died in 1991 right before christmas, he hadn't wanted to celebrate it. Had in fact left their presents under the wilting tree for near to three months. With how fragile Peter was right now, there was a good chance he would have another breakdown if his aunt died. It was better preparing for the worst to come instead of buying presents. Especially if they got stuck in their wrapping paper for weeks, if not months.

“I just think it would be nice if he had something to look forward to.”

Tony wished he had something good to look forward to to help him through this whole mess.”

 

They are back at the penthouse and Tony is tired, his body heavy from lack of sleep, his mind overrun with things he still has to do. He know he should call Pepper, should call the hospital and Bruce and the lawyer and – the list goes on like that. Maybe he should be making some kind of preparations for christmas or a funeral or a mental facility for Peter if worst came to worst. Things seem to be piling up, calling for his attention. Maybe he should stop replaying the day in his mind. Peter's stumbled report on the incident were he got shot, his frantic apology to the police officer who had filed charges against him and the way Peter had looked at him. That look. Hopelessness and pain, but also. . . it was hard to describe. For all Tony knew, Peter had looked like he had wanted to vanish, like a rabbit fleeing from a fox, hiding away in its burrow. And that's what Peter was doing now, hiding away in his room once more. Tony couldn't remember the kid ever being in the living-room, ever being in the kitchen outside of meals. He had only ever been in Tony's workshop once, despite being a lover of tools and tinkering. So far Peter hadn't done anything besides staying in his room and doing homework, texting his friends and being online. To sum it up he was starting to live like a reclusive. Tony wanted to do better than his father who had pushed him into rebelling. It's not like he wanted Peter to start going out partying, doing drugs. He just didn't want him to hole up in his room every day. What about meeting friends? Going out to watch a movie or anything like that.

It's the thought of Peter hiding away that makes Tony get up from his bed and make his way towards Peter's room. He will get the kid outside somehow, no matter the cost.

 

Although he still has a bazillions things to do, Tony makes Peter put on his new clothing – thankfully delivered almost on the spot due to a hefty delivery fee – and takes him down to the garage. He won't tell Peter yet where they are going, just that they will be going out of New York. Peter is a clever kid and will most likely remember the way from the once taken car ride to the Avengers facility upstate.

After his fall-out with Steve there is only Vision and Rhodey staying at the facility, the latter still working on getting his feet back after being paralyzed. Tony hasn't really talked to either of them for a few weeks now, sending the occasional text to let them know he is doing okay, just busy. This morning he send Rhodey a text telling him of his planned visit for later in the day. Since they fought side by side, Tony is pretty sure that Peter would like to meet Vision and Rhodey in person officially. Peter might not have been Spider-Man for some time now, but Tony counted on the teenager going back out onto the streets come the next year. It was just a matter of time Tony kept telling himself.

They sit in silence during the car ride. Peter is looking out of the window, deep in thought. Tony can't help but feel worried. Despite the new clothes, Peter looks rough. Like he is not sleeping well or being in some kind of pain he is not voicing. His shoulder should be all healed up now, maybe a little stiff from disuse. The gunshot wound remains as a very faint scar Tony saw just this morning as Peter was pulling on a new shirt. It definitely didn't look like a wound taken only a few weeks prior. It must be great having an enhanced healing factor. Tony would have liked one himself on a few occasions.

 

Tony pulls up in front of the facility and wonders why Peter doesn't squeal in delight. A look to his side shows him the teenager is asleep. His face relaxed in slumber, Peter looks younger, unburdened by worry and the weight of the world on his shoulder. Tony contemplates letting him nap for a little longer just as Peter starts to wake up.

“Tony?”, he mumbles questioningly, squinting.

“Time to wake up kid. Where here.”

Peter yawns once, stretches a little and finally takes a look at where they are. His eyes nearly bug out of his head, Tony notes with a smile.

“W-What are we doing here?” There is definitely excitement mixed into Peter's voice now.

“I thought we could do some tinkering in my workshop here. The one back in New York is too small to work on anything fun.”

Exiting the car, Tony makes his way in through the garage, Peter hot on his heels now. The one time Peter had been at the facility before had only been a short visit, he basically hadn't seen anything of it yet. There was his workshop of course, but also the private rooms of the Avengers. Instead of going to the workshop, Tony goes upstairs to the private quarters. It's high time he has a check in with Rhodey and Vision once more and he is pretty sure Peter would really like to meet both of them. He can see Peter snapping his head around from one side to the other, trying to take in as much as he can while still following Tony. It's not like the facility is anything special, most of the hallways are simply gray, flooded by lights with no decorations. It's only the private quarters that feel warm, used. Since it's Sunday there won't be any officials around, it should be just him, Peter and the two team members.

Upon lumbering up the staircase – in Peter's case – they finally make it to the private quarters, secured by a retina scan. Tony hadn't had the time to get one of Peter, so he only made minor adjustments to let the teenager in now.

“Welcome at the Avengers' Facility”, F.R.I.D.A.Y greets him once the doors slide open to admit them. Peter's chin falls down in wonder, but there is also a look of excitement in his eyes.

“I thought you would like to meet War Machine and Vision first, before we do anything in the workshop. And with meet I mean really meet.”

“Like, tell them about – you know – Berlin?”, Peter even sounds excited now.

“Yep. Feel free to introduce yourself as the one and only amazing Spider-Man.” Tony is teasing him now, it just feels good to see Peter alive for once.

Peter nods happily along.

“Showing your face at last.”

Tony turns around to hear the slow whirring of the exoskeleton keeping Rhodey on his feet.

“Good to see you too”, Tony greets his friend back. And he means it.

Rhodey takes a little longer than a normal human to finally reach them, but he is much more steadier on his legs than he had been right after he had become paralyzed.

“Who do we have here?”

“I-I'm- My names is P-Peter”, the excitement is clearly showing through.

“Rhodey meet Peter. Peter this is Rhodey.” Tony tries to introduce the two of them properly, seeing as they both take on an important role in his life now.

“Nice to meet you Peter”, Rhodey shakes his hand slowly. After letting go, he throws a questioning glance in Tony's direction. In turn Tony throws Peter a glance. But the kid is too nervous to notice it, too busy to take everything in.

“The two of you met in Berlin-”

“Don't say it. Seeing as he is still a kid, I would rather not know about his secret identity. I don't want to be the reason he has to sign the Accords.”

Of course. How could Tony forget about the Accords. Revealing Peter's identity as Spider-Man, even if it was two team members, could mean that they might have to reveal it under duress.

“So what brings the two of you here?”, Rhodey asks instead, finally getting Peter's attention focused back on them.

“We wanted to use my workshop for a bit. I could also take a look at your legs if you want?”

 


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Tony

 

While Peter is on his own in the workshop, Tony is upstairs taking a look at Rhodey's legs. They are still a proto-type and Tony listens intently to everything Rhodey has to say about them. Like that he had to oil them because they were creaking once. Tony takes a look at the screws and starts exchanging some of them for new ones. Since Rhodey uses the exoskeleton every day, some of them are showing signs of wear already.

“What's the story about Peter? It looks like the two of you are close. I mean, I saw it in the newspapers, Ironman helping out Spider-Man.”

Tony heaves a sigh and abandons the screws for now.

“I kind of took him under my wing after Berlin, keeping an eye on him. Short version: he is an orphan whose only relative is in the hospital since October, in a coma. They put him in the system, he ran away and lived out on the streets for a bit. I eventually found him and thought it better to file temporary guardianship over him. At least until his aunt is. . . better.”

“Temporary guardianship? Damn, Tony. You and a kid? How old is he anyway? Sixteen?”

Tony snorts.

“Fifteen.”

“You took a fifteen year old to Berlin to fight Captain America?”, pure disbelief runs through Rhodey's voice. “At least it makes sense that you feel obligated to take care of him now. So this aunt? How is she holding up?”

“I actually got a hold of Bruce, he is working on something for her. We will hopefully be able to try it next week. If it doesn't work, there is nothing else that can be done.”

“And the kid?”

“Will stay with me.” Although Tony's voice is resolute, he is not so sure if he is ready to take on a teenager. He might be doing it full time already, but forever? He would be turning Peter into a direct target for. . . basically every one of his enemies. And who knew if Tony didn't turn out to be like his own father and screw Peter up completely.

Rhodey doesn't say anything after that, silently observing Tony tinkering on his exoskeleton.

 

Peter is busy in the workshop and doesn't even hear it when Tony enters. His mind seems to be fully occupied with fixing one of the Ironsuit's jets. It's something Tony chose at random, just to keep the teenager occupied while he took a look at the exoskeleton. He knows Peter is clever, Tony just wants to see if he is clever enough to fix the jet. Taking out the tracker in the Spider-Man suit was easier than this.

“How's it going?”

“Good. I think. Don't know though how tight the screw needs to be? It seemed to be pretty tight when I unscrewed it.” Peter momentarily lifts his head to look at Tony. Although Tony knew that Peter was strong, he hadn't expected the teen to undo a screw which had been put in by DUM-E. Overall he hadn't expected him to see the screw at all without wearing anything to magnify it. Tony doesn't know how to word his next question exactly, so he just voices it like it comes to his mind.

“How could you see such a damn small screw?”

“Huh? I-I told you when we first met? Like after the Bite my sense were kind of . . . enhanced? Like normal people are at ten when it comes to it, and I'm dialed on eleven?”

Tony seriously can't remember much of what the kid told him that very first time in his bedroom. Just a few facts stuck, his mind simply too occupied with the Accords, stopping Steve, to take everything in.

“So, you mean to tell me that you have better eyesight than humans?” Tony definitely doesn't want to use the term 'normal people' like Peter did. Peter is just as normal as anyone else, it's not his fault that he got bitten by a mutant spider.

“Yeah. Eyesight, hearing, basically everything. Like I can smell it when you come out of the shower? Because you smell different-”

“Too much information!” Tony stops him abruptly. There are some things better left unsaid or in this case not completely voiced out loud.

“Sorry”, Peter says sheepishly, ducking his head.

“Anything else you need to tell me before we get back to fixing that jet?”

Peter shakes his head quickly. And although Tony can see that there are other things on Peter's mind, he doesn't press him.

 

They stay longer than Tony anticipated. Long enough to enjoy the recently returned Vision's cooking. Which definitely lacks some taste, everything tasted rather bland. But it was not that bad. Just not very tasty either. Vision seems to take a liking to Peter almost immediately. The same goes for the teenager. Usually reserved around strangers, he opens up to Vision after a few minutes. While other people seem to shy away from Vision, Peter is curious and asks question after question.

“What does it feel to walk through walls?” the sound of Peter's excited voice reaches Tony and Rhodey were they are lounging in armchairs in good view of the kitchen where Peter is helping Vision clean up. Even though Tony never asked him to do it, Peter is usually the one to clean up after lunch and dinner. Maybe May made him do it as well, it could have been part of Peter's daily chores. Tony wonders if he should be the one assigning chores to Peter, but throws the idea out of the window quickly. As long as he does his homework and tidies his room, Peter's priorities should lie elsewhere right now.

“He seems like a really good kid. Can't believe he brought you so much trouble.”

“Well, we all do stupid things under pressure”, Tony throws Rhodey a look. The man very well knows that Tony's reason for ever taking to drinking and partying was because is father was always nagging him to be the best, pushing and pressuring him.

“Any word from Steve?”, it's a tentative question, but still makes Tony freeze.

“No.” Short. Clipped. Tony is not going to tell him about the phone lying in his drawer.

“Anyone else besides Bruce who you got contact to?”

“No. After Steve broke them out, they seem to have vanished.” Keeping out some of the details is easy for Tony. He has an idea where Steve might be, definitely knows where Wanda and Clint are right now, but he is not going to tattle. Clint's safehouse was built for his family's safety, so Tony is not going to tell anyone where it is. He also didn't tell Laura that he installed some little gadgets at his last stay there. Like a bug to record everything that is being said. He never really listens to it, but lets F.R.I.D.A.Y go through it every other day. It was F.R.I.D.A.Y who announced Wanda's voice signature to him two weeks after the break out, followed by Clint's. Might as well keep Clint in retirement and Wanda safely tucked away with him. There was no harm in that. He still couldn't believe they had put Wanda of all people in a straightjacket after Berlin. It was one of those things that repeatedly played on his mind.

“Tony? Tony?”, Rhodey's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Peter's conversation seems to be over, the teen sitting slumped over at the kitchen island. Vision looks at Peter strangely as if he can't quite discern what he did wrong. Because there is no doubt that Vision must be the reason for Peter looking like that now.

“Sorry. I think we should leave.”

“Of course. It was good to see you again.” Rhodey claps a hand on Tony's shoulder in farewell while Vision echoes the goodbye. Peter immediately follows Tony as the man makes to leave the apartment. Before they can reach the car, Tony receives a text from Rhodey.

 

7:58

Vision was asking personal questions. I think you should talk to Peter about it. Was good to see you, don't be a stranger. R-

 

Tony reads the text as he unlocks the car, Peter getting in with him still outside, the phone clutched in his hand. Why did Vision always have to put his foot in his mouth? With a sigh – he seems to be doing that a lot these days – Tony gets into the car and starts the engine.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No.” Peter's reply is quick and quiet. Tony doesn't want to press the teenager, he trusts that Peter will talk to him if he wants to. Little does he know that Peter doesn't have the same trust in him just yet.

 

Just like that the weekend went by and it is Monday once more.

Tony gets up like he usually does after a slightly more restful night than usual. He is already in the kitchen making breakfast, when he hears Peter get up and shuffle into the bathroom. A quick shower later, Tony has breakfast ready and is filling Peter's plate who comes in with his hair still wet. At least he is wearing one of his new sweaters and a new pair of pants instead of his old clothing.

“So, ready for your French quiz?”

“It's Spanish!”

“Well then, are you ready for your Spanish quiz?” Although Tony doesn't really have any interest in the school subjects Peter takes, this is his way of finding neutral ground.

“Yeah, I studied some more yesterday after. . .” Peter trails off. The teenager still hasn't talked to him about what had happened between him and Vision the day before. And Tony still doesn't want to press him on the matter.

“I'm sure you will ace it.” Tony means to sound encouraging, but doesn't really know if he is pulling it off. Peter throws him a small smile though, so it must have done at least a little good.

As soon as Peter is off to school, Tony starts his own day of long phone calls, a visit to the hospital and many more things F.R.I.D.A.Y will have to remind him about. He can't help but sigh once more.

 


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Peter

 

Ned is feeling better and already waiting at his locker when Peter arrives at school. Traffic was worse than usual this morning and despite Happy driving as fast and safely as he could to make it in time, Peter is cutting it close. He barely has time to slip out of his new jacket and store away his backpack in his locker before going to class. Ned talks to him about being laid up all weekend, having to eat soup and watching Barbie movies with his little sister. As Peter listens to his friend, he cannot help himself but wonder if he should talk about going to the Avengers facility. Ned already knows through texting that he had been at the police station on Saturday which had turned out to be a disaster somehow.

Before he can contemplate on whether or not to tell Ned, the teacher comes in and starts her Algebra lesson.

 

“That's like. . . awesome?! Totally awesome!”, Ned exclaims loudly. Luckily no heads turn in their direction.

“Shh, keep it down”, Peter tried shushing his friend who almost immediately looks apologetic.

“It's just so damn cool”, Ned says, this time quieter.

“What is?” MJ puts down her tray two seats away from them. Although her face looks blank, she sounded curious.

“U-Uh, the- uh”, while Ned stutters to find an answer, Peter quickly shoots back: “That new Lego set.”

Rolling her eyes, MJ seems to have lost interest in the conversation and starts on reading her book.

“That was close”, Ned hisses. Peter can only nod in agreement. Throwing a glance in MJ's direction, he can't help but feel like there is some kind of tense atmosphere between the two of them. Their relationship is kind of a roller coaster and Peter doesn't know what to make out of it. Before the accident, he had felt that they were growing closer, although the whole Liz-affair had made him feel a little out of it. Then there had been the accident, followed of course by silence. Followed by lenghty nightly phone calls, talking during lunch. Only to go back to quiet again. He was really getting confused now. Why did it have to be so complicated?

 

“You are one lucky hell of a kid”, Tony greets him as Peter trudges in. Once again he was driven right back to the penthouse instead of being allowed to visit his aunt. It feels like ages now since he last there and he has made up his mind to address the matter with Tony. Wednesday was only two days away after all.

Peter dumbfoundedly stares at Tony.

“The charges against you made by the police officer were dropped. Although they recommend you going into therapy.”

“D-Dropped like. . . you mean. . .?”

“They are no longer being held against you. And as long as you behave now, they will vanish in about two years. Right in time for college application.” As soon as Tony mentions college application, Peter realizes that the charges were probably going to show on his permanent record, now that they had been dropped though, there might only be a mention of them somewhere. Nothing concrete or compromising.

“And I have to agree.”

“P-Pardon?”, Peter stutters, still not able to believe that he won't have to go into court and that his actions might have had a huge impact on his future.

“About therapy. Especially now. It might do you some good to vent of some steam”, Tony's voice is serious, as if he knows what he is talking about.

“I'm not some nutcase”, Peter answers eventually. He doesn't want to go and talk to some stranger. He is very well able to take care of his own problems!

“No one said that you are. I just think-” Tony has to clear his throat halfway through “that it might be good for you to open up to someone who is not me. Or Pepper. Or one of your friends.”

“I want to see Aunt May tomorrow.”

“And you will. After school. Peter, we really need to talk about this.”

But Peter doesn't want to talk about it. His day had been going fine. The Spanish quiz had been easy, he was sure he would get at least 80 points if not more. Ned had been back at school, he had had minimal tense contact with MJ and Flash hadn't made fun of him. Why did Tony have to go and ruin it for him?

“Peter.” And there Tony went again with his tone of voice. That tone that made him feel like a small child.

Without another word, he turns around and goes into his room. Closing the door behind him, Peter is not sure if he should tell F.R.I.D.A.Y to actually lock it for him or not. If Tony wants to enter he could simply unlock the door anyway. Instead of sitting down at his desk like he usually does, Peter slides down the door and sits on the ground instead.

 

16:39

Hey, what's up?

 

16:48

_Decathlon meeting, just let out. You?_

 

16:49

Nothing

 

16:52

_Are you alright?_

 

Peter doesn't even know why he texted MJ. Somehow his phone had found its way into his hands, his fingers typing the message without a conscious thought from his side.

 

16:53

_Peter?_

 

He feels bad that MJ seems to think he only texts her if he needs her, even though it is actually what he is doing right now. There is no one else he feels like he can talk to. Without another thought he presses the call button instead of sending a reply.

“So, care to tell me what's wrong?” MJ's voice doesn't sound annoyed although she words her question as if she were.

“I just- I feel like- Uhm. . .did I do something wrong? I mean we kinda of hung out during lunch and then we didn't and. . .” It's not really what Peter wanted to say, but it feels safer to start the conversation like that. Definitely easier than just straight out saying that Tony just dropped the therapist bomb on him and hey, maybe his aunt will be dead come Thursday.

“It felt like you needed space. I thought I was giving you that. Was I wrong?” Gods no. Peter had it all wrong.

“No! No. That's kind. I- uhm, yeah. You did right.”

“Then, why does it sound like I didn't?”

“It's just, I thought you. . . didn't want to hang out anymore? Like maybe I said something or. . .you know?” Peter doesn't really know how to explain it, simply hoping that MJ will get his meaning.

“Yeah I know. I get it Pete. So next time you feel like you might have done something wrong just talk to me, okay? And if I think you need space, I will ask before giving it to you, deal?”

“Deal.”

There is silence for a few breaths, Peter can hear MJ rustling at the other end of the line. He has no idea where she is right now, maybe still in school since she just held a decathlon meeting?

“Talk to me Peter.”

It's an open question, not a command. She is giving him the space to say what he needs to say and Peter is pretty damn sure that she would even listen to him fanboying over Starwars or talking about algebra.

“So, they are going to try this new treatment on Wednesday. On my aunt, I mean. And- and that might be it. If it doesn't work then. . . you know.” He can't make himself say it. A lump is forming in his throat.

MJ is quiet for a moment, taking in what Peter just told her.

“That's shitty. I mean- sorry. But Peter that is just horrible. Like how can they expect you to just take it like that? If I were you I would be going crazy right now!”

“I kind of am. Tony wants me to see a therapist.” Peter only realizes that he started silently crying, when he hears the echo of his own sniffling at the other end of the line.

“Okay. Wow. Still progressing what you said before. A therapist?”

“Yeah. Just threw it at me with no warning. I can't talk to a stranger like that.” Wiping his wet eyes on his sleeves, Peter feels desperation crawl over him. Things had started to get better, minimally better. But now. . .

“Maybe you should. I mean it's definitely your decision, but talking to someone might help you get everything off your chest. Bottling up is just not an option in your case. You should talk to Mr Stark about it, clear everything up. If your aunt really dies on Wednesday then. . .you might need it, okay? Keep your options open.” Why did she have to be so reasonable all the time? Peter knows keeping his feelings to himself is bad for him.

“Just. . . you can always talk to me Peter, okay? I gotta go know, I need to catch the train. See you tomorrow!”

“Bye MJ.”

He hears the click at the end of her line as she hangs up and can't help himself staring at the blank screen of his phone. _Keep your options open_.

 

“Tony.” His voice sounds resolute, he went through his speech like two dozens times, before making his way towards the workshop where Tony no doubt would be. The older man looks up from the screen in front of him, closing it with a single move of his hand.

“I'm going to see Aunt May tomorrow.” Tony raises an eyebrow in his direction.

“And I'm not going to see a therapist. Not yet.” It's what Peter calls a compromise from his side. Like when Tony was trying to enroll him in a private school and wanted him to try it out until Christmas. He knows he doesn't have anything solid to argument in his case, but he is willing to compromise on seeing a therapist, just as long as he won't be carted of immediately.

“Okay. Anything else?”

“I want to be there on Wednesday.” It's the only thing he is not going to compromise on. If it's to be the last day on earth for May, then he wants to be there.

“Sit down, kid.” Tony motions him to sit down on the couch, which he does reluctantly.

“Alright. You can go and see May tomorrow. You will be there on Wednesday, I already gave the school a call today. However I think you should see a therapist sooner rather than later. No matter the outcome of Wednesday, yesterday proved to me that you don't trust talking to me. For whatever reason, so. . .” Peter jolts inside. Tony honestly sounded sad just then. As if Peter not talking to him hurt him.

“Therapy. No way you're not going. I know it's hard to accept help some time, but I don't want you turning out like me, okay?” Tony's face looks sad as he says this, making Peter feel unsure if he should push his opinion on the matter or not. He is saved from saying anything as Tony's phone starts ringing. Peter quietly leaves the room as Tony accepts the call.

Even if they didn't get clear on the matter if he was going to see a therapist or not, at least he would be seeing his aunt tomorrow. On top of it he was allowed to be there when Dr Banner tried his treatment.

 

A quiet knock on the door which Peter hears tenfold reverberating in his head.

“Yes?”, he calls out, turning around in his chair. Tony enters the room, leaving the door open behind him as he sits down on the bed.

“I made you an appointment for tomorrow”, he says in a way of greeting, swiping a glance around the room that is slowly getting untidy again.

“Appointment?”, Peter questions.

“With a therapist.”

“W-What no!”

“Wait, my turn to talk”, Tony holds up his hand as he likes to do to make others stop and listen to him.

“You will go to school, then you will visit your aunt. After that you have an half an hour appointment with a therapist. Just a chat, no real session. Some time to get to know each other, alright? And by then end you can tell me if you want to keep on going or not. It's a compromise.”

Not for Peter, but he doesn't say so.

“Fine”, he grounds out instead. It's not like he can simply not go to that appointment. With no doubt, Happy will bring him straight to the therapist after visiting his aunt, he might even throw him over his shoulder if he resists.

“You know I'm trying to do the right thing for you.” Tony leaves after that, making Peter actually feel guilty about not wanting to compromise. But also making him feel guilty that he seems to be unable to stand up for himself.

 


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Peter

 

Aunt May looks, well, she looks dead already. It's the first thing Peter notices. After not having seen her for some time, the slow deterioration of her body is even more obvious. Her skin is now so pale, that one can actually see every vein underneath. Her hair is longer and more unruly, although she is receiving the best care a hospital can offer. Peter remembers Sunday afternoons where May would spend hours putting weird products in her hair and on her face, like egg yolks or mashed avocado. It feels like forever, like it's been longer than it had actually been since the accident.

“Hey Aunt May. It's Peter”, the greeting easily comes over his lips.

“I'm sorry I wasn't here for a few days, I uh had some stuff to do. . . But I'm hear now, so yeah. Sorry for leaving you like this I guess?”

There is no response. By this point Peter knows it is unlikely there ever will be a response again. Thinking of tomorrow makes a stone the size of the Rocky Mountains drop in his stomach.

“So anyways, school is good. Got a B+ on my Spanish quiz, I'm pretty sure there will be a pop up quiz in Algebra on Thursday, so fingers crossed there really is one. And yeah, no meatloaf for lunch. Ned and I had pizza, MJ had some kind of stew, don't ask me. You remember MJ right? She's from decathlon, well she's nice and stuff.”

And that's about as much as Peter can tell his aunt about his day. There is more that he would like to tell her, more things he should get off his chest before tomorrow.

“And there are some more things I should tell you about, before tomorrow. I don't know if you can feel anything, can feel this”, Peter gives his aunt's hand a squeeze. “But Tony, Mr Stark, he has a friend who is going to try some kind of procedure on you tomorrow. He doesn't know if it will work yet, I'm sorry you will be his test subject. But if it works then you will hopefully wake up again. Sorry, I had to do this without your consent. . . it's just you're the only one I have left May and I don't know what I would do without you. Who is going to help me for prom? Who is going to be there on my graduation? There's like a ton of things I still need you for and. . . I'm not ready to give you up just yet.”

Peter has to swallow around the lump forming in his throat. After May had found out he was Spider-Man, they had decided to always tell the truth, to not let the other out of the loop.

“We said we would be honest, so here is me being honest. I can't bear seeing you like this anymore and I don't want to be the one to pull the plug. I can't be that one. So this procedure, if it doesn't work then I don't know what to do. Sometimes I can't help but feel that it would be easier if you had just died. . . I don't want you dead, but. . . everything is just too much.”

He sits there silently for a while after his confession. His chest doesn't feel lighter now that he did it, now that he had finally voiced what had been lurking at the back of his mind for some time. For the rest of his visit Peter simply sits next to his aunt, holding her hand. His confession makes him feel drained, there is nothing he can think of that he could talk about now.

Although he hears the knock on the door, he doesn't turn around.

“We're leaving in five.” Happy.

“Okay.”

Peter hears the soft click as the door closes behind the man.

“I guess that's it. I don't know if you can hear me right now, but I want you to know that I-I love you Aunt May and I will see you tomorrow.”

 

 

The therapist is a non-descriptive woman who has one of those faces that you quickly forget about. She has brown hair and brown eyes, dressed in a fancy suit, she sits in an armchair across from Peter.

“How would you like to do this?”, her voice is kind, her whole posture is kind and open. Which makes it hard for Peter to dislike her on sight. He simply shrugs his shoulders in reply.

“This is not a real session, more like a first meeting. So we don't have to go into detail. Mr Stark said you are really clever?”

Now she sounds like a kindergarten teacher who is trying to coax a child to do something. Peter winces.

“I guess so.”

“Any subjects in school you like? Any clubs?”

“I like algebra. Was on the academic decathlon team. . .”

“Was? Why are you no longer on the team?”

Peter doesn't want to answer that question. He is not going to talk about what happened in the last few months to a stranger. If this was supposed to be a first meeting and not a real session, shouldn't she be asking other questions? Shouldn't he be asking questions too?

“You know you can talk to me”, the therapist says. Pressing his lips tightly together, Peter tries to shut her out, he is looking at his lap instead of her now. Faintly he can hear her voice, but cannot make out the exact words she is using. He has more important things to worry about than being on good terms with a therapist he didn't even want to see in the first place.

 

 

“Your therapist gave me a call. Would you like to tell me what happened before I give you a piece of my mind?”, Tony's voice sounds angry. Usually he keeps his anger better concealed.

“Listen, kid my patience has run out. I'm trying to do you some good. This first session was supposed to be a meeting where the two of you got to meet each other, nothing more. But if you don't talk, it's just a waste of time! I'm doing this for you Peter!”

To be honest, Peter doesn't know what he is supposed to say now. Tony rarely raises his voice in front of him, nor addressing him in such a way. The older man surely must be under a lot of pressure to actually act like this. Peter can't help but feel like this is all his fault. And maybe it is all his fault.

“Peter, come on. Just talk to me.”

“I-I'm sorry”, Peter mumbles, before fleeing once again to his room. He just can't deal with Tony right now. Can't really deal with anything right now. By tomorrow his aunt might be dead.

 

 

Tony didn't come to his room to talk to him. Although F.R.I.D.A.Y had called him for dinner, Peter had had no appetite and had stayed in his room. For a while he had tried doing his homework, but that hadn't worked out at all. Neither did surfing online or texting Ned. To top if off, his body is getting restless. He feels like he should be moving, doing something, anything. It's two in the morning and it looks like it might snow again soon. Alas Peter doesn't care. Pulling on his shoes and winter jacket, he makes his way outside. It's easier than he imagined, F.R.I.D.A.Y not blaring like a siren during prison break. Peter takes the elevator downstairs, only encountering the door man on his way outside. Despite the late hour and he cold, there are still people outside. A few cars drive past him as he makes his way down the street. It's not like he has any idea where he is exactly right now. This is not Queens and he doesn't know any of the streets. Since Happy had been driving him all the time, Peter doesn't even know the name of the street he is in.

A woman walking her dogs passes him, her face glued to the screen of her phone. She nearly bumps into him, Peter quickly ducking to the side before she can. She doesn't seem to notice, simply walking ahead. Peter feels like he is invisible, the big city swallowing him up. He sometimes felt that way before he was bitten whenever he was in big crowds. After the bite, he had felt more confident, more aware of his own presence. Today however, it didn't feel like it. He was no one, just a teenager out on the streets in the middle of the night, a teenager no one seemed to notice. And maybe just maybe, a small voice whispered in his head, it was better this way.

 

 

He had promised never to do this, but Matt couldn't help but listen in on his. . .friend? Companion? Team member? If he described Jessica as his team member then he would have to admit that they were in fact a team. In his opinion it was too soon to define them at that. For now Jessica would stay his acquaintance. And maybe he would be sending a taxi over to the bar she was getting ridiculously drunk at sooner or later. Although the others new he had very good hearing, he had promised them to not listen on in them intentionally. If he picked up cries of distress of them, then he was free to intervene. However, on some nights he couldn't help but check on Jessica. She was barely stable on better days, most nights spend getting drunk and in bar fights. In the short time he had known her, he somehow had grown fond of her.

His conscience getting the better of him, he order a taxi to pick her up within the hour. With that down he resumed his post, listening to the city underneath him. It might be the death of the night, but that didn't mean that Manhattan was asleep.

Matt cocked his head to the side as a peculiar sound reached his ears. A sound which he had waited to hear again. He had some unfinished business to take care of.

 


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Peter

 

“Peter.”

The sudden announcement of his name, made Peter snap his head around. He was sitting on top of a building, one he had chosen on random. The streetlights and neon signs lighting the night in a low yellow glow. A few feet away from him, illuminated by the yellow glow, stands a man in a red suit. Not just any red suit, but more like one Peter would wear himself. Although the man looks dangerous to him, his spidersense is oddly quiet.

“I've been meaning to talk to you”, the stranger says. The voice sounds familiar to Peter, alas he can't quite place it. Only as the stranger removes the mask that obscures his face partly, does Peter know who he is talking to.

“Mr Murdock?”

To be honest, Peter can't quite believe his eyes.

“May I sit down with you?”, the lawyer asks in his calm voice. Still stunned Peter can only nod, only to then realize that the man was supposed to be blind. Had it all been an act?

“I'm still blind Peter”, Mr Murdock clarifies as if he knows just what Peter was thinking about.

“U-uh sorry. Yeah, sure. Have a seat.”

He watches the lawyer slowly walk towards him, confident despite missing his stick. The man settles down next to him, leaving a good foot of space between the two of them.

“How have you been Peter?”

“Good. Uhm, I'm sorry for leaving the way I did. . . you were really nice to me.”

“It's okay. I had expected you to leave one way or another. Will you tell me what you are?” The change of topic is not only quick, but comes wholly unexpected for Peter. Does Mr Murdock know about him being Spider-Man? And if so, how did he find out? He's not asking who he is, but what.

The lawyer is patiently waiting for Peter to answer his question. Unlike the stupid therapist who kept on shooting off questions. What harm could it do to tell the man that he was Spider-Man? He looked like some kind of vigilante himself.

“I'm human, not alien. Definitely not alien. Long story short, I was bitten by a mutant spider and here I am. Spider-Man.”

“Aren't you a little young for that?”

“I get asked that a lot. And actually, I tried being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, tried to keep my head down and stuff, especially after the whole Vulture thing.” Peter doesn't know how much the man actually knows about Spider-Man, but he might have been keeping tabs on him.

“I heard about that.”

They sit quietly for some time, the occasional noises of a car driving down in the street or a cat meowing somewhere the only noise between the two of them. It feels like Mr Murdock wants to say more, but is keeping himself back as if he was waiting for Peter to say something first. Peter still can't quite believe what had happened.

“How did you- I mean when- no. . .how did you know that I was different?”

“I heard your body healing when you were brought into the hospital after being shot.” The blunt answer throws Peter off once again. He hadn't known that Mr Murdock had been at the hospital, either he hadn't hung around long enough or Tony had sent him away.

“So you have like super hearing? How can one even hear a body healing? What does it sound like?”, the questions bubble out of him.

“If you want to call it super hearing, you may. I call it enhanced hearing. It's hard to describe the sound, but I could hear the blood rushing through your veins faster than other humans. There was also the sound of your skin knitting itself back together”, the lawyer explains to him calmly as if it was an every day thing to hear.

“I have enhanced hearing too”, Peter exclaims excitedly. “Although I can't hear my skin knitting back together. I'm not sure I even want to hear that.”

“Sometimes I can't choose what I hear. I simply hear it. Like I hear a baby crying right now three blocks away. She sounds hungry.”

“Okay, this is way more enhanced hearing than I have! Is there anything else you can do?”

“I'm afraid not. I'm a good fighter and that's it.”

“So, you are like. . . a vigilante or something?”

“Yes. You may call it that. Although I like to keep a much lower profile than Spider-Man.”

“Do you have cool name like me?” Peter is getting excited now. The only other people he knows or resemble him a little are the Avengers. And it's not like they are trying to keep a low profile. Sokovia had made that clear.

“You may call me Daredevil, some call me the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. If you ever see me in this I mean”, Mr Murdock makes a down movement with his hand.

“Wow, way better than Spider-Man!”

Peter's response makes the lawyer chuckle lowly under his breath. Before Peter can get in any more questions, Mr Murdock turns his body around to face him. Even in the dim light, Peter can see the unseeing eyes of him trying to look him in the eyes, but missing by just a few inches.

“What are you doing out here Peter?”

The question is worded carefully. Sadly, it still makes Peter feel guilty.

“I needed some air.” It's a lame excuse, but the only one he can come up with. Mr Murdock throws him a look, or at least he tries to.

“Jessica. Jessica. Jessica. Jessica.” The monotone robotic voice interrupts their conversation.

“I need to take that”, the lawyer excuses himself and pulls out his phone from a hidden side pocket of his suit.

Peter can't really hear what is being said on the other end of the line. He hears loud noises though and the raised voice of a woman, no doubt Jessica. She sounds angry, very angry

“Just get in the taxi. I already paid for it”, Mr Murdock states calmly after some time. He listens for a few more moments before ending the call.

Peter knows it is rude to comment on other people's phone calls, so he keeps quiet, waiting for the lawyer to talk again.

“Some times we all need some air. But isn't it a little far away from Mr Stark's penthouse?”

Had the man been keeping tabs on him, Peter wonders.

“I kind of got lost”, Peter says which is not wholly untrue but also not the truth. A part of him had wanted to flee, to simply walk forwards until he could go no further. Another part of him. . . Peter didn't really know. He was confused, simply confused. There was too much going on right now for him to keep his thoughts straight, to concentrate.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, give me a call”, the lawyer pulls out a card. Which after a few seconds of consideration, Peter accepts. It's too dark to make anything out on it, but Peter assumes it is the man's business card.

“Let me call you a taxi to take you home.”

“Uh, no thanks. I would rather walk.” Peter is too ashamed to admit that he doesn't even know the address at which he is living at right now.

“Then let me walk you home. It can be dangerous around here at this time of the night.”

 

They walk in silence next to each other.

Although he is still wearing his red Daredevil suit, Mr Murdock doesn't seem to care if they are spotted. The streets are near to empty now. No more people walking their dogs, just a few people walking home from bars. A few taxis passing them. A catfight somewhere in alley. It was the quietest night Peter had had since moving from Queens to Manhattan.

“You're aunt, how is she doing?”

The question throws him off, how did the lawyer know about his aunt? As if reading his thoughts, Mr Murdock continues. “Mr Stark paid me a visit after you had left my place. He told me about your situation.”

“He never told me.”

“I'm sure there are a lot of things Mr Stark doesn't tell you. To keep you safe, to not make you worry unnecessarily.”

“Or he just wants to keep things from me because he still thinks I'm a kid”, Peter replies bitterly.

“You are a kid Peter.”

Although people might tell him that, it's not what Peter thinks about himself. After all he went through, after Berlin, the Vulture, Peter feels more like a grown up than a kid.

“We're here”, the older man says, stopping in front of a building.

“Thanks for walking with me”, Peter says politely, even if he would rather have found his way home here alone.

“You're welcome. If there is ever anything I can do for you – and I mean either as a lawyer or as Daredevil – you can give me a call.” The older man's voice sounds sincere.

“Yeah sure. Goodnight Mr Murdock.”

Peter makes his way inside the building. The concierge sitting at the house desk is asleep, lightly snoring away. The clock on the wall reads 4:02 a.m.

He just knows he is going to be in so much trouble.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates might be slower now as I used up all of my prewritten chapters and uni started again. I will try to do an update every two or three days though!


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tony

 

He is going crazy with worry. After F.R.I.D.A.Y had so unexpectedly woken him up, Tony had been pacing the kitchen. Peter had left the building, this much the AI had been able to tell him. But after that. . . nothing. Tony had no idea where Peter could have gone off to. And calling the police was kind of out of the question right now. As Tony was only a temporary guardian, a call to the police might help find Peter, but could also mean he would loose the guardianship. And that was just something the man wasn't willing to risk. Instead he had once again searched through the facial recognition database. Nothing had come up there, the late hour surely playing a part in that.

And then he had received a message.

The number shown on the screen was unknown to him. Various scenarios flitted through his head. A kidnapping maybe. Or an accident. Opening the message he saw that it was a voice message. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the play button.

“Mr Stark. This is Matthew Murdock speaking. I have just found Peter walking out on the streets. I will make sure that he gets home.”

Tony lets out a breath he didn't even know he had held in.

What kind of coincidence could it be that the lawyer had been out in the middle of the night and had found Peter wandering on the streets? There was no way he could fully trust the man. The only thing he could do now, was try to track the lawyers phone and see where he was right now. But of course the elusive man had an untraceable phone.

There was nothing Tony could do now except wait. If he had had any alcohol in his penthouse he might have taken a drink. Alas he hadn't. So Tony made himself a cup of coffee and sat down to wait.

 

It had been a few hours already and no news of Peter. After drinking his third cup of coffee, Tony had felt too jittery to sit still and had instead started to pace.

It was after four when he heard the front door open and close with a soft click. Taking a deep breath, Tony turned towards the door. The light was dimly lit in the living-room, easily to be mistaken as the light coming in from the outside.

Peter's weary figure stumbled into the room. Tony could see that the kid was tired and worn out. A look of shock registered on Peter's face as he saw Tony standing in the living-room. It made something inside of him shift. So instead of starting his lecture right away, Tony crossed the distance between the two of them and grabbed Peter in a hug. The teenager felt cold to him, which was no wonder considering he had spend part of the night outside.

“Whatever it is, you can always talk to me.” It's not like Tony planned on saying anything like this, somehow the words had just found their way into his mouth. Once spoken, he knew that they were true though.

 

As they had to leave for the hospital around eight, Tony had only been able to catch three hours of sleep. He had given Peter half a pill of the sleeping meds Tony himself used to take when sleep simply wouldn't claim him. The teenager had been out cold in his bed not even twenty minutes later. They hadn't talked about why Peter had gone. Where Peter had gone. That conversation was something that could wait until later. There would be little to no use scolding Peter now. The teenager was cold, tired and had looked dead on his feet. He had earned the right to try and rest for a few hours. Who knew what the day would hold in store for them today? Worst case: Peter would be left alone without any family. Blood family that is.

It might have only been a month, but the responsibility Tony felt for Peter had grown into something different. They had grown closer through everything and now it felt like Peter was not only part of his life, but part of himself.

Despite having had three cups a few hours back, Tony made himself another cup of coffee and some plain toast to go along with it. Peter might not be hungry, but Tony was unwilling to let the teen out without at least having eaten a slice of toast. They had a hard day ahead of them after all. They had about twenty more minutes, it was high time to go and wake up Peter.

Tony found said teenager still in his street clothes lying on his bed. His face looked a little less stressed in sleep, still pale though and there were dark bags forming under his eyes.

“Peter?” Tony shook his shoulder lightly. A few more shakes and repeats of the teenager's name later and Peter slowly woke up.

“Come on buddy, time to get ready to go to the hospital.” Tony waited until Peter's eyes were fully open and the teen struggling to get out of bed after his med induced sleep. Waiting in the kitchen, he send a quick text to Bruce to see how everything was going, all the while keeping one ear tuned on Peter. The teen was slowly shuffling around his room, no doubt still a little hazy.

 

7:41

I'm waiting for you at the hospital. Everything's ready. How is Peter holding up?

 

Bruce ever the worrier, couldn't keep himself from worrying over a kid he barely knew. Tony send a quick text back while Peter had finally found his way into the bathroom.

 

7:43

Okay. He's not in a good place, we will see how it goes.

 

He had discussed things with Bruce already. The doctor had put a sedative aside should Peter have any reason to have a breakdown. With how unstable Tony found the kid to be right now, there was a high possibility of Peter having a breakdown. And Tony truly didn't know how it would look this time. If the worst came to be, Peter was a strong kid and could possibly hurt someone without meaning too, maybe even himself. So Bruce had prepared ahead and had a sedative ready just in case. The doctor might be convinced that everything would work out today, alas Tony wasn't so sure. After all the procedure was an alien one. Who knew what it would do to the human body and mind.

“Tony?” the voice was small. As if Peter still expected to be scolded for last night. Tony had no intention of doing it today, they certainly would have to talk about running away eventually. But not today.

“Here, eat some toast and then we will go.”

Putting his phone aside, he watches the teenager reluctantly sit down in his usual spot. Peter stares at the piece of toast for a few moments before he starts eating it. Tony knows how he feels right now. He can remember vividly the day of his parents' funeral. How he had forced himself to eat at least something, no matter that everything had tasted like sawdust since the news of his parents' death had reached him. And Peter was just the same. Stopping half way through his piece of toast as if he couldn't even bear the thought of eating another bite.

“Let's go.”

 


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Peter

 

The ride to the hospital went by quietly. Although Peter felt nervousness thrumming through him. He was pretty sure the piece of toast he had eaten would resurface very soon. Tony was sitting next to him, staring out of the tinted window. Once again there was a light snowfall, due to that the streets were clogged. No doubt even the little bit of snow had resulted in a few car accidents. Happy was driving slowly which was something the man usually didn't do. As if he was trying to make the ride to the hospital as long as possible. Maybe Tony had told the man to do so? Maybe the scolding Peter was waiting for would happen now?

Minutes ticked by and Peter felt his fingers twitching in anticipation. But Tony didn't say anything, didn't even turn his head to look at him. Peter didn't know how he should feel about that.

 

When they finally made it to the hospital, Happy parked the car and the three of them walked in together. The emergency room was packed with people who had slipped on ice or such like. Tony grabbed his shoulder and lead him through the crowded room to the elevator. May's private room was on the fifth floor of the hospital far away from the loud noises of the emergency room and its waiting room.

While Happy stays behind in the waiting room, Peter is lead to Aunt May's room by Tony. There are fewer nurses around than usual, none in May's room. Only Dr Banner.

“Hey Peter”, the doctor greets him with a friendly wave. How the man can be so relaxed is incomprehensible to Peter.

“Hi Dr Banner”, he greets back quietly, slowly making his way towards his aunt. She looks just like she did yesterday when he had left her.

“Bruce can I have a word. Be right back kiddo.” Tony and Dr Banner leave the room quietly. With a deep breath Peter takes the last step towards his aunt and takes her hand. She is still wired up to the machines. Her hand is cold and frail in his own.

“Hey Aunt May. So the procedure is today and. . . yeah Tony let me come here instead of making me go to school which is really nice. So. . . this might be it. You know I love you like crazy, right? And if I will never see you again I promise to do my best and go to college and you know. But . . . maybe you will see me again and be there when I graduate and stuff. So. . . I guess this is goodbye, maybe? Love you Aunt May.”

Peter can't help himself but lean forward and give his aunt an awkward hug. The tears are already stinging in his eyes, but he manages to keep them back for now. There is hope. He just has to believe that there is a small, a very small sliver of hope left for his aunt and that she will actually pull through.

 

By the time Tony forced him into the waiting room – which is as empty as the hallways – Pepper has arrived. She took a day off to be at the hospital with them, even foregoing her usual business attire for jeans and a sweater. For the first few minutes she tries to get a conversation started with Peter and Peter wants to try . . . he just can't. His aunt could be dying right now and all he can think of is how to make walnut date loaf. He feels like it is important for him to remember how to do this. Poor Pepper gives up after a few more tries, instead choosing to remain silently sitting next to him.

The waiting game begins.

 

Time is ticking by.

So far they waited for two hours. Happy went down to the convenience store next to the hospital to buy them some snacks and a coffee that tastes at least a little better than what the coffee machine at the hospital has to offer. He comes back with two plastic bags clutched in one hand, the other holding four cups of coffee. Snowflakes cling to his shoulders, the snow having picked up in its intensity. And Peter wonders if he will ever get to build a snow spider-man with his aunt.

Then there are loud noises.

Within a second Peter is out of his seat and on his way towards the hallway. He faintly hears frantic calls for- he can't make out what. The door to his aunts room is open. And then there is Pepper. She quickly puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him back. If Peter had been halfway coherent he would have fought back. He was definitely stronger than the woman.

There was a static noise in his ears and his legs felt like jelly. It couldn't be. Could it? Breathing became heavier, his sight blurry. Could this be it? Was that it? Was all hope lost? Peter didn't know. He feels himself being drawn into a black swirl, unable to escape.

 

“Peter”, the hand on his shoulders draws him out of whatever place he had been in. Looking up, Peter is faced with Tony's grim face. There is no way to read if the expression is positive or negative.

“Come on, let's go see May.”

The short walk to the private room feels like a lifetime for Peter. He can hear every single one of his breaths rattling in his chest as if his bones are brittle and going to cave in any second now. Dr Banner is waiting for them in the room. May is still lying on her bed, the machines are no longer wired up to her. She looks dead. Peter has to swallow around the lump forming in his throat.

“If it works then she should wake up soon.” Dr Banner ventures, flipping through his notes.

“C-Can I. . . ?”

“Go ahead kiddo.”

Peter sits down in the chair next to his aunt's bed and takes her hand like he usually does. It still feels cold to him, but when he concentrates he can feel the blood pumping through her veins slowly. She is not dead yet, he thinks gripping her hand harder. Not yet doesn't mean it won't be soon, that terrible voice inside of him whispers. Peter tries to push the thought out of his mind, alas the echo of it remains.

“If she were an alien the treatment should have already shown some sort of progress. At this stage we are just lucky that she is still alive.” Dr Banner's voice washes over him, but he is not really registering any of the words spoken.

So the waiting game continues.

 


	27. Chatpter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tony

 

Peter looks like an empty shell too him. Too quiet, too pale, on the brink of nonexistence. They only had one little hitch up during the procedure, a failure of May's heart which thankfully could be restarted again. Now it was only a matter of time to see if the serums Bruce had injected her with would work or not. They had gone over everything intensively. Going through Bruce's notes over and over again. Tony still didn't quite understand how the procedure worked – there hadn't been enough time for that – but at least he knew every step of it. Just. . . the heart failure had come unexpectedly to him. It was a good thing in situations like this to have Bruce around, he seemed much more able to keep his head clear and make the right decisions.

After that hitch-up everything had gone smoothly. Now it was only a matter of time until they would know if the procedure had worked or not.

“How is it looking?”, Tony couldn't help but ask Bruce repeatedly. The doctor was busy once again checking May's vitals.

“Not conclusive. I really can't say if this is going to work or not. If you want, you can get Peter. He can wait here with us?”

Tony considers this for a minute. On the one hand he wants to protect Peter, to keep him away from all the bad things, keep him wrapped up safely as much as it's possible with Peter being Spider-Man. And then there is this part of him that knows Peter should be here. That it's important that he be here even if May should pass away. He remembers vividly when he received the phone call that his parents had died in a car crush. For years he had tortured himself with thinking about it, imagining how it must have looked like. It had led to him drinking away his pain, so as not to be harassed by the thoughts of it. If he kept Peter away now, would it lead to a repeat of what had happened to him? Peter might only be fifteen, alas he was no regular fifteen year old. He deserved to be here, he deserved to know what was going on. Despite their being a part of Tony that wanted to keep him safe.

“I will go and get him”, he eventually said, leaving the doctor and his patient alone for a moment.

 

As he steps out of the private room, the first thing he does is take a deep breath. There is a headache forming slowly behind his eyes, one that he knows all to well by now. Alas there is nothing he can do about it now, so Tony covers the few steps to the waiting room.

Happy is reading a magazine, looking up as he enters the room. The man's face is anxious for news, good news. Pepper looks up next. She is still sat next to Peter, there is a plastic cup standing next to her, probably emptied of its contents already. And then there is Peter.

Peter who is a wreck. Definitely not in a good mind space. The way the body is shrunk in on itself, the paleness of Peter's face and the faraway look in his eyes. He's not even registering that Tony has entered the waiting room, doesn't look up at the near to silent sound of his steps. And in that moment, Tony realizes that May has to live in order for Peter to continue living. Peter is different than he was. He's not going to make the feelings go away with alcohol and drugs, he will let himself be consumed by the feelings until nothing is left of him. It's fear now growing in Tony's belly.

Peter is like a son to him. Even if Tony will never speak the words out loud, his heart knows they are true. If something were to happen to Peter, Tony knows that it would destroy him.

“We're still waiting on any progress”, is what he tells Pepper and Happy, both of their faces worried.

He takes a few steps forward, softly placing his hand on Peter's shoulder.

“Peter?”

 

For an hour nothing happened.

Peter sat quietly next to May, holding her hand but not saying anything. One of the nurses once told him about Peter's usual talks to his aunt. How she had accidentally overheard him once and couldn't help but keep the memory of the innocent talk Peter had had. The kid had talked about his school day, his friends. As if they were having a normal conversation and he was just telling his aunt about his day. That was something Tony wanted to give back to him. Even if they had made progress in their relationship – at least in Tony's opinion – they were still miles apart from any easy conversation. Peter never willingly talked about his day with Tony, keeping to himself most of the time. Tony wanted him to have the confidence to come up to him, talk to him if things worried him. They still needed time for that to happen. And frankly Tony couldn't help but wonder if they would get the chance to ever progress to this stage of their relationship.

If May woke up – and dear God how Tony wished she would for Peter's sake – then he would have to give Peter up into her care again once she was released from the hospital. As much as he hated admitting it to himself, Tony wanted to stay a part of Peter's life. An active part.

There is a shrill beeping noise that immediately pulls his attention to May.

“What's happening?”, he frantically asks Bruce who jogs over to his patient almost immediately. Before Tony can grab Peter and pull him away, May's eyes fly open.

Tony is freezes.

He sees Peter jump out of the chair he had been sitting in, leaning over his aunt. He can see Bruce trying to keep May down on the bed as the woman tries to use her other hand to pull the tube out of her nose. It's Peter's frantic voice that rips him out of his stupor.

“Aunt May! Aunt May! It's me! Are you okay?” Peter's voice sounds a little high-pitched in his excitement.

And then everything goes even more haywire.

Tony sees May open her mouth as if to reply to Peter, but what comes out of her mouth are not words, not exactly. It sounds as if she has forgotten how to speak. Which was something that could happen to people being in a coma for a long time or after they had a traumatic brain injury.

“Aunt May?!” Peter's voice sounds distressed now.

“Tony!”, Bruce is throwing him a look, clearly wanting him to finally get Peter out of the room. May tries speaking once more, still the sounds coming out of her mouth make no sense. Tony can see that Peter is close to tears right now and finally his body seems to be able to move. He steps towards the bed, disentangles the teenager's hand from his aunts and pulls him out of the room. Even using all his strength makes that hard as Peter is not willing to leave his aunt behind just yet. Tony just about gets him to the waiting room, where he tells Happy to take Peter to the penthouse – because although Tony knows it is the wrong thing to do right now, he can't bear seeing Peter in so much distress – before stepping back into the private room. Peter's distress cries of 'Aunt May' still audible.

 

“May, if you can understand me nod once. If you cannot understand me, shake your head.” It's an easy way of communicating which Tony had pulled up via the internet after they had gotten May settled. Bruce was sitting in one corner of the room, nursing a cup of herbal tea, leaning back and relaxing. The man had done his job. Had even given Pepper a mild sedative for Peter who in his distress didn't seem to be able to control his powers fully. Happy had texted him a few minutes ago that he had brought a knocked out Peter back to the penthouse where Pepper was now watching over him. This gave Tony the opportunity to have a private chat with May.

The woman in question was looking at him. Tony repeat his question a little more slowly to her. Which seemed to do the trick as the woman nodded her head once.

“Okay, great. I don't know how much you remember, but you've been in an accident and fell into a coma. That was in October, it's December now. Looks like the coma resulted in some kind of brain damage. My good friend over there”, Tony points a finger in Bruce's direction who is busy riffling through papers and definitely not listening in. “Is going to take a look at you and we will see what can be done for you. Do you understand?”

May nods once, slowly. Her body definitely not used to the movement anymore. Tony can already tell that she has a long road ahead of her. It might have been the accident, it might have been the coma, either way her linguistic system was affected and it would most likely take a long time for it to get better.

“So, I don't want you to worry about Peter. I got legal guardianship over him, he is staying with me, going to school, not making any trouble. We will concentrate on getting you better now, there is no need to be worried about anything except yourself, got it?”

 

It's nearing midnight when Peter finally wakes up.

The scene feels familiar for Tony. He had come back from the hospital about two hours ago, letting Happy go home after telling him and Pepper about what would happen now. Pepper had made herself at home in the kitchen, cooking something for whenever Peter would wake up. Tony just wasn't hungry after the day he had had. He had sat down at Peter's bedside watching the teenager sleep peacefully. Once again he was reminded that Peter was behaving more mature than what was usual for his age, but now his face looked peaceful. All sound had dimmed around him. When the day had slowly faded to night, F.R.I.D.A.Y had slowly turned on the lights, keeping the room lowly illuminated. It's was messy once again, clothes strewn everywhere. Hopefully with May making it through that would change.

The noise of Peter moving in his bed – for the first time in two hours – pulls Tony out of his thoughts.

“Hey there buddy”, he says quietly as Peter squints up at the light in the room. His head snaps around quickly, gaze focusing on Tony.

“W-What. . . ?”

“Alright there?”

Peter struggles to sit up, the sedative he was given however seems to be against any movement.

“We gave you a mild sedative. I don't know how much you remember, but we were at the hospital. May woke up, you were kind of freaking out. Now listen”, Tony says in that tone he only uses when he actually wants people to listen and not interrupt. “May is fine. Alright? We did some tests on her and the injury from the accident affected the part of her brain that is needed for language. She will need a lot of therapy, but then she should get better. She _will_ talk again. She will also walk again. Make her date walnut loaf and whatsnot.”

“S-So, wha-what happens to me now?”, Peter's voice sounds insecure, despite the reassuring tone of voice Tony tried to use.

“I talked it through with your aunt, or as much as one can. You will stay with me, I'm still you're legal guardian. Tomorrow your aunt will be transferred to a private rehab centre where you can visit her every weekend. She will get the rest and care she needs there. Once she is back on her feet, you will move back into your apartment in Queens with her.”

“W-When will she be better?”

Sitting there with his bowed head, hands wringing in his blanket, Peter is the picture of childish insecurity. Tony cannot help but lean forward and put one of his hands over one of Peter's.

“Only time will tell that. But believe me, May _is_ going to be better.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it.  
> Not it it.  
> It's just the end of the first part I wrote. There is still some plotline I want to follow through, so I will keep updating until I'm satisfied!


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Peter

 

Two months later

 

As the coldness slowly makes way for a little less frosty temperatures, Peter picks up his patrols once more. After school – or decathlon depending on the day – Happy drives him to a secure alley in Queens where Peter changes into his spidersuit and slings around for a few hours before being picked up by Happy once again. Tony and he agreed on this system. That way the older man won't have to worry that much about what Peter is up to when he is away at work.

Peter enjoys the freedom that being Spider-Man offers him, his patrols quickly turning into the highlights of his school days. On the weekends he can't wait to visit Aunt May at the facility where she is recuperating. It's only been two months since she woke up, but she is already making progress. Her body is stronger once more and she can walk around on crutches freely. Her speech also has improved. She can say a few words now, the ones that are most important like 'toilet', 'food' or 'drink'. One day however, she surprised Peter by actually using his name. One of the staff later told him that May had been adamant about learning to say his name again. A warm feeling had bubbled up in his chest then and Peter couldn't help himself but throw his arms around May and hug her as hard as he could without hurting her.

Life was finally looking better for Peter.

His patrol had been going smoothly. A grand theft bicycle, a guy trying to rob a handbag, just the normal stuff he was used to. After his first appearance after his little break, pictures of him had been all over the news. Speculations had run high, but none of the stories had actually reached him as Tony had installed a filter in his internet media intake. He had had installed the filter way before Spider-Man had made his reappearance when a ridiculous rumour had been started by someone about him and Tony's relationship. Peter didn't know to this day what exactly that rumour had involved, Ned and MJ not talking about it, although they knew about it. The whispers in the hallways also hadn't helped him figure the mystery out as everyone was saying something different. In the end he had just given up on finding out, being satisfied with Tony telling him once more that everything was taken care of.

The thought of Tony made Peter check his watch. He was only slightly late. If he hurried up, then Happy could maybe make it on time back to the penthouse if he drove really fast through the clogging rushhour of New York.

Slinging his webs from building to building, Peter took only about five minutes before he reached the rendezvous point. He landed softly behind a dumpster and quickly pulled on his clothing. He would take off the spidersuit back at the penthouse, there was no need for him anymore to take it off before going home.

Happy was already waiting for him in the car. The man always waited in the car lest someone see him there. His status as Tony Stark's man was after all no secret. Peter quickly clambers into the car, closing the door behind him and buckling in.

“A little late today. Any trouble?”, Happy throws him a look in the rearview mirror, his voice showing a hint of concern. If Peter didn't know better, he would guess he had kind of grown on the man.

“No trouble, just lost in thought”, Peter replies before taking out his phone. He has one new text message from MJ.

 

17:23

_Was that you swinging by my window just now????_

 

Peter can't help but smile. It had indeed been him. If he had the time, Peter liked checking up on his friends occasionally. He types a quick reply and waits for MJ to answer.

 

17:56

_Nothing better to do Peter, huh? Next time you can be my friendly neighboorhood Spider-Man and help me with algebra homework!_

 

17:57

Algebra is Peter's forte, Spider-Man is no good at it!

 

17:59

_Well, then. . . where is_ my _Peter?_

 

Peter can feel his face blush at MJ's exclamation. There had been a slow and soft teasing going on between the two of them for some time now. Peter himself was a little unsure on how to think about it. Whenever he thought of MJ, or sat next to her during lunch, or send her texts like this, he got this weird little fluttering in his stomach. He wanted nothing more but to ask Aunt May about it, she was the one to go to in these kind of situations, sadly asking her was out of the question. At least for now. With how fast she was making progress, Peter was hoping that she would be back on her feet come summer.

 

18:01

Sorry, heading home now. See you tomoz

 

Turning off his phone, Peter stares out of the window. The streets of the city are bustling with activity, just like they do every day. Soon they will be filled with tourists once more. Despite the Alien Invasion, tourists from all over the world still came to visit New York. Peter wondered, not for the first time, if it would be different living in Manhattan during the tourist season than it was in Queens.

“Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for school kid.”

Once again having sunk into his thoughts, Peter didn't even notice them reaching the parking lot of the penthouse.

“Thanks Happy, see you tomorrow.”

 

Tony is in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand. The way he is leaning against the kitchen counter, the little tenseness in his shoulders, Peter knows that Tony is going to give one of his little lectures. After living together for three months, Peter is able to read Tony like a book, or at least sometimes.

“I'm sorry for being late”, Peter apologizes before Tony can get a word in. The older man raises an eyebrow.

“If there is trouble you give me a call. We agreed on this. Also no being late on school nights. I'm sure Happy drove over the speedlimit to keep you from being even more late. We talked about this Peter. You keep to the rules or no more patrol.”

“There was no trouble. I just got lost in thought and wasn't paying attention to the time and. . . “

“Alright, keep it. Get out of that suit. I will install a timer for you.”

Peter can only groan at Tony's words. There is no use protesting though. He is clever enough to know when there is a battle to fight that he can actually win and when he should just do as he is told. So he trudges into his bedroom and changes out of his clothes and the spidersuit, grabs his pyjamas and goes back into the kitchen to hand the suit over to Tony who takes it without another word and vanishes into his workshop.

This leaves Peter to take his second shower of the day and start on his homework before their usual take away dinner is being delivered.

 

 


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tony

 

Tony is in his workshop when F.R.I.D.A.Y announces the news to him. After dinner, Tony and Peter had gone their separate ways. Peter had homework to do and their was a Biology quiz coming up for which he needed to prepare – who was he kidding – Tony knew Peter was such a smart kid, he was going to ace the quiz even without actively studying for it. After F.R.I.D.A.Y's usual Bedtime Alert for Peter had gone off, Tony hadn't expected the AI to say anything more this evening. Now he was just about to finish the timer he had wanted to install in the spidersuit when F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice sounded.

“News alert.” Which meant one of the many things Tony had the AI listening out for was on the news. Turning on the TV he quickly found the reason why the AI had alerted him. Footage of a courtroom was shown, a mass of men in suits, reporters. All underlined with the words: “Convict goes free after early pardon.” Then a photo is shown. Seeing the mugshot, Tony can't help but feel fear rise up in him.

 

He made F.R.I.D.A.Y block out all news coverage of the early pardon. There is no way he wants the teenager to get worried as well. It was better if it was just him doing the worrying. Tony also didn't know how Peter would react. Would he try to catch the man in a crime once again? Or would he be too scared to go out on patrol? His identity as Spider-Man was still unknown to the public and it was supposed to stay that way. If Tony could help it, he would keep Peter away from anything regarding his Spider-Man identity and the Accords for a very long time.

Tony was preparing breakfast as usual in the kitchen when Peter comes stumbling in. He is sporting a fantastic bedhead, a sight Tony is already used to. There are many things he has become used to during the months they have been living together. They had been in kind of a routine even before Aunt May had woken up from her coma, but now that the woman was out of it the routine had become even clearer. As soon as Aunt May had been settled in the private nursing facility, Tony and Peter had brought some of Peter's stuff from the apartment to the penthouse. The place hadn't been touched for a few months, so Tony had made sure that everything was in order while Peter gathered some things he needed or wanted. He would still pay the rent for the apartment, at least until May was out of the nursing facility and able to work at least a little. Most likely he would support them until Peter was done with university. If not, Peter might very well choose to get a job instead of higher education just to support his aunt. Tony just knew that a bright kid like Peter would forever regret not pursuing higher education, even if it was for the sake of his family. So Tony would simply pay the money, a small amount in his eyes. Maybe after graduation Peter would genuinely want to work for Stark Industries and that could be his way of paying back Tony. Not that the man wanted to be paid back anyway.

Not only had their routine changed, but also their relationship. Peter no longer was a kid he had tried recruiting for the Avengers. Peter was. . . family. Simply that.

Ever since things had finally settled down, Tony had also started on working on his cooking skills. Most dishes were no longer a problem for him, but his omelett still resemebled scrambled eggs. No matter how many recipes he tried out. Peter had actually complained about the amount of eggs he had to eat for breakfast, so that Tony had started making omelett during the day when Peter had been away at school. He couldn't see eggs anymore to say the least. So he was laying off of anything egg related for a while. Peter seemed to be content on eating toast, cereals or porridge – which was something Tony could manage without burning now –.

This morning Tony had made porridge as he had found that it was something of a comfort food to him. Also he found porridge to be best served in cold weather and it was slowly getting warmer after all. This might be one of his last chances to eat it.

Peter was barely hiding a yawn as Tony set down a steaming bowl of porridge in front of him. Before Tony would have simply sipped at his cup of coffee and maybe exchanged a few sentences with Peter, but now he sat down next to the teenager and dug into his own breakfast. They sat next to each other in companionable silence for some time, Peter trying to keep his eyes open and Tony busy with sorting out his thoughts. He was still pondering on how to keep _the news_ away from Peter. What if Ned saw them and told him? What if someone in the school talked about it? There were so many possible ways of Peter finding out. . . and Tony really didn't want to know the outcome.

“Can I go to Ned's on Friday for a movie night?” Peter's voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Uh. . .”

“Come on, it's only like three hours? I won't go on patrol but come here first after school and then go to Ned's around six. After homework of course.”

Peter knows by now that if he wants something he has to argue his case with Tony and bring forth some good arguments or compromises. Him offering to not go on patrol and instead going to do his homework at the penthouse is one of those compromises.

“I'm not sure that. . . “ Tony is rudely interrupted by Peter.

“Please! I haven't hung out with Ned in ages! It would only be for a few hours, you can pick me up when we're done!”

Peter brings forth his puppy eyes and there is only so much that Tony can take. With a sigh, he cards a hand through his messy and yet unwashed hair.

“Alright. I will pick you up at ten, no later. And you will check in with me once every hour.”

“Check in? I will be at Ned's! It's not like. . .”

“Yes check in. You can either agree and go or you can just stay here”, Tony cuts through Peter's sentence.

“Fine.” Peter agrees eventually.

“Good. We have an agreement then. Now finish your breakfast, Happy will be here soon.”

 

 

Ever since Pepper took over Stark Industries Tony has a lot more free time even though he still has to do work for the Avengers, he has more free time on his hands than he used to. There are only a few occasions were he has to be present for Stark Industries business, some press conferences here or there, sometimes meeting a new client if they especially request seeing him. Otherwise he is pretty much free of the obligations. Which suits him just fine and was actually good for getting a hang of living with a teenager. So it comes as a surprise to him to get an email from Pepper's assistent, telling him about a possible future client who would like to meet him personally. It couldn't come at a worse point of time, seeing as there is someone out there who definitely might be after Spider-Man. Sadly, it's not that kind of meeting that Tony can decline.

With a sigh he sends a quick reply to the secretary to let her know to arrange everything for the meeting. He will have to fly out of New York for a few days and either leave Peter on his own or get either Happy or Pepper to look after the teenager. Pepper most likely will accompany him to the meeting, which only leaves Happy as a possible babysitter for Peter. There is no way Tony is going to leave Peter to his own devices. He just doesn't know how happy Happy will be about playing babysitter. But he can figure that out later.

 

 


	30. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Peter

 

“So Tony gave the okay for Friday. But I can only stay until ten.”

“Dude, still awesome”, Ned says spearing his mac'n'cheese.

It's lunchbreak and the two of them are sitting at their usual table, enjoying their lunch which is for once not that bad. They are in mid sentence about what movies they are going to watch when MJ drops her tray next to Ned and sits down as if she's always done it. And the thing is: MJ had been a pretty constant presence at their table during lunchbreak for some time now. Peter still feels something bubbling up inside of him whenever he sees her. And he doesn't really know, but maybe he kind of likes her? Even more so than he liked Liz. Maybe Liz had been something of a crush to him and maybe MJ was just more than that? Peter didn't really now, was actually confused and whenever he tried thinking about it, he got even more confused. So for now he didn't even try asking MJ out and strictly kept to talking during lunchbreak, Decathlon and the occasional text or late night phone call. Because he was still calling her whenever he needed someone to talk to during the middle of the night. MJ was just a damn good listener and her mum seemed to have the best kind of advice any mother could give.

“What's up loser. Hey Ned”, she greets them and Peter is not even affronted on being called 'loser' anymore. It's just MJ's nickname for him and Peter knows that she doesn't mean it like that.

“Oh shoot, I actually have a chess club meeting! See you later!”, Ned jumps out of his chair and quickly grabs his tray and backpack.

“See you in English!” He calls over his shoulder as he hurriedly makes his way out of the cafeteria.

“So”, MJ starts. “You wanna go see a movie sometime?”

Peter's head snaps up from his Mac'n'cheese so quickly he can nearly hear it crack.

“U-uh. . . what?” He can't believe his own ears.

“A movie. Together. Like a date?” Peter can detect a small hint of uncertainty in MJ's voice now.

Inside Peter's head everything is going haywire. And then there is also that weird feeling bubbling up in his stomach again. For a few moments he can only stare at MJ. And maybe his mouth is kind of open, making him look like a gaping fish.

“Forget it, we don't have-”

“S-Sure.”

MJ looks at him surprised.

Now it is her staring at Peter speechless.

“Okay. Cool. I will, I will pick a date then?”

“U-Uh yeah. Sure. Awesome.”

“It's a date then”, MJ says and ends the conversation by opening her obligatory book.

The fluttering in his stomach doesn't leave Peter for the rest of the day.

He has a date.

A real date.

With MJ!

 

Tony is not at home F.R.I.D.A.Y tells him as Peter comes back from his patrol. There is a twenty dollar note left on the kitchen island and a note from Tony though.

_I will be back late. Order whatever you like. Do your homework. T_

It's not the first time the man has left him with a note like that. With a tired sigh Peter opens their takeout menu drawer and randomly pulls something out of it. They have quite a collection of menus already, having tried out all of them and only keeping those that they really liked. There was only one pizza place, but tons of Asian food places and a few South American and African restaurants as well. Having simply taken something out of the drawer and being too tired to bother riffling through everything, Peter is stuck with ordering something Mexican. They only had fajitas a few nights ago, so Peter is left with either burritos or tacos. He takes a few minutes to decide, places the order and starts on his homework. Some of it is only due next week, but Peter wants to finish most of it so he can relax on Friday at Ned's. And then there is also the date MJ asked him out on. The date! He really wants to have time for it and not be stuck with his homework. Peter hadn't seen MJ the rest of the day, but the fluttering in his stomach hadn't left him all day. Ned wouldn't believe him when he told him about the date. Peter couldn't quite believe it himself yet! Maybe it was all just a dream. Or maybe he had misunderstood MJ and she only wanted to go out as friends?

Oh god, he thought, what if I have been wrong all along?

Instead of pulling out his phone immediately to text MJ, Peter agonizes over the thought for a whole twenty minutes. Until the doorbell rings and his dinner is delivered.

While chewing his burrito, Peter keeps on running the thought through his head. It's just one of the things he can't stop doing. And then his phone vibrates where he placed it on the kitchen island.

 

18:26

_You free for our date next week?_

 

Peter wants to shout out a thank you to whoever god helped him out of his misery.

 

18:28

Yeah sure!

Peter types his reply quickly, not even caring that he is smearing the screen with his oily fingers. Food is unimportant right now. He clutches the phone in his hands and waits an agonizing three minutes for MJ's reply.

 

18:31

_Cool. There is this new movie we could go out and see? Maybe next week?_

 

Peter quickly texts her back the okay and as she doesn't reply for five minutes, goes back to his now lukewarm burrito and when that is eventually finished, goes back to his homework.

 

 

He must have fallen asleep on the couch in the living-room after doing his homework. Otherwise Peter wouldn't have been woken up by Tony coming home from wherever the man had spent his evening. Peter rolls over with a groan as the man steps into the living-room. By now he is able to discern Tony's footsteps from those of other people. He always knows when Pepper or Happy are there, their steps sounding decidedly different to Tony's.

“Whoa kiddo, what are you doing up here?”, Tony throws him a surprised look as he spots Peter on the couch.

“Must have fallen asleep after homework”, Peter mumbles still a little sleepy.

“Alright, off to bed then. It's way too late for you to be still up.”

Now that Peter is waking up a little more, he notices that Tony looks a little tired and worn out himself.

“Is everything alright?”

The man seems to be caught of guard, flinching ever so slightly.

“Yes. Everything is fine. Now off to bed Peter. You have school tomorrow.”

With a yawn, Peter sits up slowly, stretches and eventually stands up. He is too tired to pick up his backpack or his shoes and just leaves them. He passes Tony without another word, the man busy checking his phone, and trudges to his room. Before he slips inside his room and his bed though, he turns around once more.

“I'm going out on a date with MJ.”

Tony's head snaps up, the man's gaze focusing on him. For a moment it seems like the man wants to say something to him, but then he seems to be holding back for some reason.

“That's great. We can talk about it tomorrow at breakfast. Good night Peter.”

Peter feels like he is being dismissed. He had thought that Tony would be happy for him, or excited like Aunt May would have been. With a nod, he opens the door to his room and leaves Tony alone.

 


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One

Tony

 

A date.

Peter had a date. Tony still couldn't believe that the teenager finally had seemed to make a move on someone! That someone most likely being MJ who he still had to meet. It was not like Tony wasn't happy for Peter, he genuinely was. He was simply too tired after the day he had had. With the news from the day before and then the meeting popping up today, he was just tired. Overall it had been a long day and Tony wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, call Pepper and go to bed. Seeing as it was already quite late, calling Pepper wouldn't happen, a simple text would have to do, seeing as she was most likely already in bed. Instead of taking the wanted long hot shower, Tony did a quick one and crawled into bed tiredly. F.R.I.D.A.Y reported Peter being asleep in his bed and for once Tony could turn off his worry and fall asleep immediately.

 

If it wasn't for F.R.I.D.A.Y waking him up in the morning, Tony wasn't sure if he would have gotten up at all. Alas the AI's alarm sounded first lowly, then getting louder every few seconds until the sound became unbearable for Tony and the man finally managed to get up. He forwent the shower, making his way slowly into the kitchen instead to get started on Peter's breakfast. He still hadn't found a breakfast delivery service nor had he invented a breakfast making machine. But since it was part of their daily routines now, Tony didn't really mind making breakfast most of the time. Just today as he could have done with two or so more hours of sleep, he didn't really feel like making it. Well now that he was awake, he could start the day with a hot cup of coffee which would hopefully wake him up a little more.

 

Twenty minutes later and a barely awake Peter stumbled passed him into the bathroom. Tony had had his first cup of coffee and was already on his second. The pancake batter was nearly used up and by the time Peter came out of the bathroom a stack of pancakes would be waiting for the teenager. Somehow Tony felt dread bubble up inside of him. What if Peter was disappointed that he hadn't shown so much interest in his date declaration the day before? How was he supposed to make it up to him? Was he supposed to make it up to him? Instead of going to bed, maybe Tony should have looked for some advice online. Was there advice about teenager's first dates?

Tony didn't even remember his first date, not really anyway. He knew he had been fifteen at the time and the girl must have been pretty or he wouldn't have asked her out. However he couldn't really remember how the girl looked, not even her name came to his mind. He knew that they had gone to the movies, he might have kissed her or held her hand, but that part was just speculation. If he was honest with himself, his firsts hadn't really mattered to Tony back then.

The only firsts he could vividly remember were the ones he had had with Pepper. As sappy as that sounded. Tony remembered Pepper's first day as his assistant, remembered their first dance, their first kiss, their first. . . everything. If there was one thing Tony knew, then it was that Pepper was _it_ for him. People who believed in sentimental crap would use words like soulmate and such. For Tony it was simply _it_.

“Pancake's burning”, Peter's voice pulls Tony out of his thoughts for good. And indeed one of his pancakes is happily smoking away in the frying pan.

While the teenager settles down at the kitchen island, Tony tries to stop the pancake from fully bursting into flames. It has been a long time since this has happened to him. It usually happened on mornings where he wasn't fully awake or his mind occupied. Today both had taken an active part in it.

“So about yesterday;” Tony starts while plating up a pancake for Peter. “A date, huh?”

As if a switch has been turned on, Peter's tired face turns into one dazzling smile.

“Tell me everything.”

And so Peter does.

 

 

Tony can't help but worry. He doesn't mean to but it seems to be ingrained in him somehow to worry for Peter, now even more than he did before. It might be because he had grown closer to the teenager, or maybe Peter woke some kind of parental instinct in him, anyways he was worried. Peter had set the date for his first date with MJ while Tony was away on business. Happy would be watching over Peter for the few days he was gone, temporarily moving into the penthouse's guestroom. However Tony would have preferred it to be there when Peter went out on the date, not only to keep an eye on the teenager but also wanting to hear about the date firsthand.

There was nothing he could do about it though.

Just like he couldn't do anything about Peter going to Ned's the next day. It's not like he wants to keep the teenager locked up, just with _him_ on the loose, Tony feels like he should be a little more overprotective than he already is. At least so far it looks like Peter has no idea about the possible danger he is in which Tony counts as a blessing.

 

Although he hasn't heard from Peter since that last time he saw him back in December, Matt had been keeping tabs on the teenager.

It's not like he was actively spying on him, he just wanted to make sure that everything was fine. And by what he was able to overhear, things seemed to be going well for Peter. It had come as a surprise for Matt to hear that Peter's aunt was doing better. He had actually paid the woman a visit after meeting Peter for the first time and he had heard the woman's body dying in front of him. It was a very unpleasant noise if for once the person in front of you was innocent and no guilty madman. Despite only knowing Peter for a short length of time, he hadn't wanted the teenager to end up as an orphan like himself. If worst had come to worst and the circumstances had been different, maybe their paths would have crossed and he would have been the one to take the kid in. But that was just speculation.

Matt was glad that things seemed to be going well for Peter. As well as Spider-Man. He counted it as a good sign that Spider-Man was back out on the streets again, protecting Queens and the little guys out there.

Matt, of course, was an avid follower of the news. Some of the things said on TV were important to his cases after all. He also liked to keep track on anyone discharged from prison, be it early or not. It was important for him to keep track on who could possibly be a threat to Hell's Kitchen.

Despite the older man being suspicious of him and generally keeping a distance from Matt, Matt was surprised when his phone chimed the man's name.

Stark.

He had saved the man's number just in case. Matt just hadn't expected to ever receive a call from him. As this could only be about Peter, he hoped that everything was still alright.

 


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

Peter

 

Somehow Peter was nervous about seeing MJ back in school that day. He didn't mean to be, he just didn't seem to be able to help himself on the matter. His stomach was doing that fluttering thing once again and it even felt like his spidersense was tingling. Why it would to that, Peter had no idea. The first few periods were hell for him, lunchbreak couldn't come soon enough for him as it was only during lunchbreak that he would see MJ and then afterwards in class and Decathlon of course. Peter could see that Ned wanted to talk to him during class, like he usually wanted to, he just couldn't concentrate on that. In his mind he went through all the things he could say to MJ during their date – which had been set for next week's Friday - and possible scenarios of what could go wrong. In his mind there were a lot of things that could possibly go wrong, making him even more jittery.

Come lunchbreak all his fears simply seemed to vanish.

MJ sat down next to Ned like she always did, maybe so she could look at Peter better? And she started up the conversation with her usual greeting.

“Hey Ned, hey loser.”

It was MJ's customary greeting for him, but the smile she threw in Peter's direction was dazzling. Or at least it was in Peter's mind. In truth it wasn't more than a little uplift of her lips, but it was so much more than he usually got.

“H-hey”, Peter stutters, Ned echoing his stuttering. Ned is as excited as Peter is, maybe even a little more. Despite his self-confidence Ned had never gone out with a girl before, not even something like being invited to a girl's party like Peter. Too bad Peter hadn't really more experience than Ned. The whole Liz-thing had been a horrible experience, one he had tried to forget. Especially considering the whole shebang with the Vulture was tied into these events.

“Jeez Peter it's just a date. You don't have to be so nervous already,” MJ says in one of her annoyed voices. There are several, Peter has noticed, and this one is her sarcastic-annoyed voice. Nothing to worry about then. Except Peter is going out of his mind worrying about what to wear and what to say and the date isn't even for another week!

“Alright, calm down now. I really don't want to make a big deal out of this. And you kind of are.”

Peter tries to clear his head for at least a second to reply, but once something takes over in his mind, it is hard for him to focus.

MJ fake groans, picks up her tray and leaves the two flabbergasted boys alone.

 

“U-uh Tony what do you- I mean, how do I- uhm. . .”

“Spill it kiddo.”

Tony throws him an impatient look over the top of whatever kind of contraption he is building right now in his workshop.

“It's uhm, about the uh- date. I mean. . . ,” Peter trails off unsurely. He really doesn't know how to broach the subject with Tony. They might have gotten relatively far in their relationship, gotten comfortable in their social interactions, but it was still hard for Peter to address things like this. Private things.

“Alright, sit down, let's talk about this.” Tony pats the desk chair next to him, but doesn't look up from his little project. The workshop looks more like Tony now than it did before, Peter notices. Back in December when he had first gotten here, there had barely been any inventions and tools in the workshop. Now the walls were hung full of shelves brimming with knick-knacks and inventions, tools were lying around everywhere and there was even a small DUM-E taking care of things like screwing bolts and cleaning up a little whenever Tony felt like there was a need to do so.

A little reluctantly Peter sits down in the proffered seat, choosing to avoid looking at Tony and instead facing his lap.

“So, as you're obviously not able to ask me the questions you want to know about, I will just give you a general talk. First of all, don't be so nervous. I thought MJ was you're friend? No need to be nervous then. Just behave like you usually do around her and you will be fine. And then don't worry so much. You're only going out to see a movie after all. You pay for the tickets, you buy her some popcorn, you sit down and watch the movie. There's not much chatting involved, nothing for you to freak out over.”

If even Tony notices his nervousness, then Peter must be really bad had hiding it.

“But what if she, you know, uh. . .,” Peter really can't say kiss in front of Tony. It's not like he hasn't seen Tony and Pepper kiss ever before and it's not like he doesn't know what's going on behind doors, it's just. . . Peter can't really tell what his problem is. Maybe it's him being a teenager and discussing anything remotely sexual is embarrassing if it isn't with someone your age.

“Frankly Peter, I don't know. So you have to elaborate a little.” There is a little strain coming through in Tony's voice, a strain Peter had noticed the evening before. Something was on the man's mind, something he wasn't willing to share with Peter. No matter what it was, Peter just hoped that it didn't involve his aunt, nor was a problem that couldn't be taken care off.

“I'm waiting here.” Tony sounds a little impatient now.

“I-It's not important,” Peter stumbles over the words and is about to stand up and flee out of the workshop as Tony's hand lands on his shoulder.

“I'm sorry Peter. I didn't mean to be short with you. You know you can always talk to me. No matter what about. Oh well there is something I really don't want to talk to you and I hope May did it already and- anyway, ask me. Come on. I won't bite you.” Tony's hand is a comforting gesture on Peter's shoulder, the warm familiar touch relaxing him somewhat.

“What if, what if she wants to. . . uhm I mean, what if MJ wants to, you know. Kiss?” Peter can feel his cheeks heat up, the embarrassment creeping up on him and keeping him from looking up at Tony.

“Oh dear,” Tony clears his throat. “Okay. Good. I got this. No. No. I'm calling Pepper.”

And this is how Peter ends up having a very embarrassing talk with Pepper who Tony called in just to have this talk with him. At least now Peter knows what MJ might be expecting of him on their first date. And how to proceed with everything. Although it somehow mortifies Peter even more, it also kind of helps him. It also helps him to watch a few movies Pepper recommended and actually forces them to watch one with her on the spot. Tony is making a fuss about it, groaning theatrically and moaning about chick flicks until Pepper conveniently shuts him up with a kiss. Peter staring at the screen with all the concentration he can sum up. He really doesn't want to see the two adults make out with each other. It was bad enough that he had heard them once. It was one of the times he had cursed his spidersense, his enhanced hearing especially. Never did Peter want to repeat that experience. Never.

 


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

Peter

 

Lunchbreak the next day is easier.

Peter is still a little excited around MJ, but at least he gets a few words out. Just enough to not make the girl leave like she did the day before. As it's Friday Peter also can't help but be a little bit excited about going to Ned's place later on. Although he is excited about going, Peter's conscience is slowly creeping up on him. It will be the first time in nearly two months that he doesn't patrol during the afternoon. He might only be friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, but he still feels like he is contributing to society. While Aunt May had been in the coma and he had sat out on being Spider-Man, people have seemed to realise what he was actually doing for the community. Now whenever he did something good, half of the people actually thanked him for helping out. Before barely anyone had thanked him, most of the people had simply ignored him and his good deeds. Even if he was just stopping a grand theft bicycle from happening. But never mind that.

Today instead of patrolling Peter would go back to the penthouse and do he homework like he promised Tony. Just so he could go to Ned's place later on in the day.

Little did he realise that while he was having a pretty normal day for a teenager, there was someone out there looking for him. Or to be exact: Someone out there who had just found him.

 

Peter pulls out his phone once again to send Tony the hourly text, just like he promised. He feels silly doing so, but seeing as it was one of Tony's points for him to actually go to Ned's, Peter wanted to follow it through. Ned only threw him a sideways glance but didn't comment on Peter pulling his phone out. Usually his whole attention would be fixed on the movie, but seeing as he had actually set an alarm to remind him to check in with Tony, he had to concentrate on something else for a few seconds. He had only one more hour left of quality time with Ned before Tony would actually come and pick him up. The whole arrangement made Peter feel like a young kid and not a teenager, but he was biting his tongue and not complaining. They were taking little steps in their relationship, it had Peter taken weeks to convince Tony that decathlon was a good thing and joining the team once more would only benefit him. He had gone through the same troubles with his Spider-Man patrols. Tony was setting him much more boundaries than Aunt May had ever done.

Or maybe that was just his imagination because he had been used to Aunt May's ways and now had to accustom to Tony's? Never mind, Peter thought. Putting his phone away he wanted to concentrate on the movie and actually eating some of the popcorn Ned's mum had made for them. It was the best popcorn he had ever had, better even than the one he got at his favourite movie theater.

 

Tony was there an hour later, for once being very punctual, to pick Peter up. Ned and him had actually managed to start on a third movie, the first one being a very short one. Reluctantly Peter made his way downstairs when Tony send him a text that he was waiting for him outside. Peter did try stalling, but he didn't dare do it too much in fear of what might happen if he took too long. He really didn't want to test Tony on that, especially as his date with MJ would be next week. Peter certainly didn't want to be the kid who couldn't go on a date because he was grounded. With a last goodbye to Ned, Peter made his way downstairs and out on the streets.

The evenings were still a little chilly, but he only had to take a few steps towards the now familiar car. Tony seldom picked him up from school, mostly Happy had the honours and he preferred the limousine while Tony preferred a much sleeker sports car. Peter quickly opened the door and slipped into the nicely temperated car. Tony was busy looking at the screen of his phone, not even muttering a greeting back as Peter greeted him. Buckling in, Peter waited patiently for Tony to finish whatever the man was doing. He had gotten used to that already. Sometimes there were just things – mostly work related – that Tony had to do immediately and with his full concentration.

Not even three minutes later Tony stowed the phone away in his jacket pocket and turned around to face Peter.

“How did it go kid?”, he asked, his attention now solely focused on Peter.

“We just started on another movie. Four hours wasn't enough time!” Peter knows he is whining, but that actually helps him sometimes. Not this time however. Tony only pulls up an eyebrow, giving him one of his looks, before starting the car and pulling out of the driveway he parked in.

The ride home is spend with Peter talking about the movies he saw with Ned while Tony simply listens, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

It's a two hour drive during good traffic to get to the nursing facility.

Peter doesn't mind the two hours in the car to see his aunt. They usually spend the time talking about stuff, whatever comes to mind really. Sometimes they talk about matters regarding the Avengers, sometimes it's about school, and then they also talk about inventing new things. They have been working on a few pet projects, developing small trackers and things to use in suits. Today however, Tony seemed to be absorbed in his own thoughts. The man had seen more than a little absent the last few days and Peter was starting to get worried that something might be truly wrong. Tony usually kept his problems away from Peter, even if they actually affected him. Now Peter was unsure if he should be worried or not. If he was lucky Tony was just going to spill the beans sooner or later, if not this mood could persists for a week if not more.

 

“P-P-Pete”, Aunt May slurred in greeting. Her speech was only slowly getting better, but Peter didn't care if she took a little longer to say his name. He was just glad that she could say it. Tony had just dropped him off in May's private room to have a chat with her doctors. It was their usual routine. Tony would be back later on to talk to May for a bit, or as much as one could talk to a woman who's speech was impaired.

“Hey Aunt May, I missed you”, Peter greets her back, placing a kiss on her cheek. Despite not being able to voice her thoughts clearly, May has gotten back most of her strength and is able to write down her part of the conversation. She holds up the little whiteboard as Peter sits down opposite of her. _Tell me about your week_ , is written a little clumsily. It's what they usually start with and Peter plunges right in. He tells her about the robbery he stopped on Monday, and the nice old lady who he helped cross the street. He tells her about hanging out with Ned the day before, about the movies they had watched and finally tells her about his date with MJ. May's eyes light up at that and she quickly erases her first question to write down something else.

_Are you excited?_

“I am. I am. You know I told you about that date I had with Liz for Homecoming and that went terribly wrong. So I feel like this is my first real date, you know?”

May nods enthusiastically before writing down another question for Peter. One that actually makes Peter laugh.

_What are you going to wear?_

It had been May who had helped him find the perfect outfit for Homecoming. He had been so desperate back then not knowing what he could possibly wear. May had taken that decision over for him. He remembered quite fondly how they had spend a whole afternoon watching videos on youtube on how to tie a necktie. She had never gotten it quite right. And it had taken Peter at least a dozen tries to finally make one decent knot.

“No idea. I could try some things on later, take pictures and show them to you tomorrow if you like?”

Despite the two hour drive to the nursing facility and another two hours back, Tony drives him down on Saturday and Sunday. The man must know how important it is for Peter to spend time with his aunt, to make sure that he is not dreaming and the woman is actually alive.

“Yes”, Aunt May tells him. It's one of the few words that she can say without a problem now. Peter knows it's going to take some time before his Aunt will be able to have a normal conversation with him again, or as close to a normal conversation they can get. Tony told him that it is doubtful that May will ever regain her level of speech again, but that doesn't mean she won't be able to talk again. She might just have to take longer to form a sentence and actually voice it. Peter really doesn't mind. And so far it seems like May is set on making progress, being positive and not letting this diagnosis pull her down.

 


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Four

Tony

 

He still hadn't told Peter that he will be away come the next week. And Peter might not be able to see his Aunt on both Saturday and Sunday next week. They are sitting in the car on their way back from the nursing facility. Once again the teenager sitting next to him looks content. No matter how little progress his aunt has made during the week, Peter seems to just be happy to have his aunt back. Having once again talked to the doctors and May's speech therapist, it has become clear that May will forever have a slight speech impairment. They don't know yet how far it will go, but she will definitely have trouble in pronouncing longer words. Her sentence structure might become more simple than it used to be. But then again it's a wonder the woman is alive and they should count that as a blessing. Her muscle strength also seems to be returning and she soon might not have to use the wheelchair at all, instead moving on crutches for longer walks. The doctors are positive she will regain full body movement, it's just her speech that is not going to be the same. Nonetheless May was throwing herself into getting better, not being pulled down by the small hitches she no doubt experienced during her therapy. Tony feels bad for possibly ruining the good day Peter had had so far, but it was high time that he spilled the beans.

“Listen up kid.”

That gets him Peter's full attention immediately. Tony cringes inwardly.

“So there is this business thing I have to attend come next Tuesday. It's in California, which means I will leave early Tuesday morning and only be back by Saturday night. Pepper is going to come with me. Therefore Happy will be babysitting you.”

“B-Babysitting?” It's not the fact that Tony will be gone for almost a week, it's the simple fact that Happy will be taking care of him that seems to throw Peter off.

“Yep. I want you on your best behaviour. Checking in twice a day. The whole shebang we had the last time I had to do some business.”

Peter groans in the seat next to him, or is it more like a teenager whine coming out of his mouth?

 

Tony is busy packing the whole of Monday. He has to go through some files as well, just checking some of the data he was presented with. If he can nail this business deal then the Stark Industries stock should hopefully go up a lot. Not that Tony cares about the extra millions he could make, of course the money is important to him but it is not going to go to him directly. Instead he has already planned a few more things for his September Foundation which he could easily make possible with that money. One day Tony hoped to make the world better with the money he donated. To at least make up for some of the damage he had down through building weapons.

 

Peter seems a little downtrodden come Tuesday morning. Despite Tony being in over his head with the upcoming business deal, he made the time to take Peter out to a restaurant the day before. If the Shawarma place two blocks away could even be called that. Now it did seem like Peter didn't want Tony to leave. The teen was suspiciously quiet during breakfast, barely touching Tony's lovingly made special omelet – something that strongly resembled a pancake but was purely made out of eggs –.

“What's wrong Peter?”

Peter lifts his gaze from where it had rested on his untouched plate.

“Nothing,” he replies, unconvincingly. Too bad that Tony is good at making out lies and Peter is a horrible liar to begin with.

“Come on. Spill it. We both know there is something bothering you. Is it that Happy is going to be staying here with you?” It was the first thing that had come to Tony's mind. Maybe the teenager had a problem with Happy taking care of him for a few days? Pepper hadn't seemed to be a problem before, but then again Peter's and Pepper's relationship was different to that of Peter and Happy.

“N-No! Happy is cool. It's just. . . “

“It's just?”, Tony asks as Peter doesn't go on.

“. . . what if I need some help before Saturday?”

Tony can't help but laugh.

Peter's face turns sour in reply and Tony tries to stifle his laugh quickly.

“Listen up Peter, if there is anything you need. Anything at all, you can always call me, alright? And I mean always. At night, during the meeting, during the flight. Always. Got it?”

Peter seems to hesitate for a moment, before he gives a careful nod. Tony is not wholly convinced that Peter takes his words to be true, but there is nothing he can do about it. He can only stress his words so much. It's a simple matter of Peter finally accepting that Tony is not going to lie to him. Ever. Hiding the truth by not telling, sometimes. But straight out lying is not something Tony wants to do to Peter. He can very well remember his own parents. His mother always making up excuses for his father. And they were sorry excuses. Tony never wanted to repeat the mistakes his parents had made with him.

 

Tony can't help but sigh when he finally gets to the airport and takes a seat in his private plane. Traffic had been hell this morning and the already nagging worry for Peter had intensified during the nearly two hour drive. He knew that rationally nothing bad could happen to Peter. He had F.R.I.D.A.Y looking out for any possible threats, Happy was there to take care of him. . . it was just. . . Tony really didn't know what it was exactly. It didn't help that there was an ex-convict on the loose now, one that possibly wanted to hurt Peter. If Tony had to describe the situation with a parenting term, he would probably translate it with: mama bird is afraid to let her baby bird go. As silly as that might sound. He just didn't feel secure in leaving Peter on his own in New York while he had to go and do business on the west coast.

“I'm sorry for being late! I was stuck in traffic!”, Pepper exclaims, showing off her frayed nerves as she comes walking towards him. Her usually neat banks are all over the place, something that only happens when Pepper is nervous and twists them.

“Don't worry, I just got here myself”, Tony says as Pepper leans forwards to give him a quick kiss in greeting. Tony can't help but want to deepen that kiss, too bad Pepper is in business mode.

“Let's go over these documents one more time, shall we?”

Tony can't help but groan.

He does hate going business trips.

 


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

Peter

 

Although he checks in with Tony more than the agreed on two times a day, Peter can't help himself but miss the man. He has nothing against Happy, starting the day with Happy fully dressed in his suit handing him a Starbucks paper bag is just too much for Peter. Normally Tony would sip his mug of coffee quietly while making breakfast for him, still in his pyjamas. Peter knows that Happy gets up ealier than they do as he has to drive from his place to the penthouse to pick him up. It's just weird having the big man standing there. He's not complaining though.

When Tony asks him on Wednesday how everything was going, if Happy was taking care of him, Peter replies as honestly as he can. At least Tony can't see his face through texts and won't be able to tell if Peter actually lies.

Come Thursday Peter misses Tony a lot. He has just grown so used to the man, that it feels wrong to him to start the day without the man somehow. It makes him wonder how things are going to be when Aunt May gets back from the nursing facility. It might still be some time before that happens – hopefully she can come back in autumn – but it still makes Peter ponder about how much his life has changed in such a short amount of time. How will it feel once he goes back to the apartment in Queens and starts his days without Tony's omlet? How will it feel to not be able to wander into the man's workshop and just start fiddling with little pet projects?

The thought somehow makes a spike of pain go through his heart. It's then that he realises that Tony has grown on him, has become something like an uncle to him.

Peter wonders if Tony feels the same for him?

 

Peter itches to press the call button on his phone and call Tony. Alas the man has only gotten up in California while Peter's school day is nearly over and the date with MJ comes ever closer. He had picked out an outfit with Aunt May on Sunday which he had carefully hung up in his closet. Pepper had send him a text with a few helpful tips yesterday evening, so basically Peter should be prepared. Alas he doesn't feel like it. The nervousness is taking over again and there isn't really anyone he feels safe to talk to. Calling May is not an option as she can't really reply, also she has therapy most of the weekdays. Then there is Ned who has no experience dating and therefore wouldn't be a big help at all. That only leaves Happy. And Peter is so not ready to talk to the man about this part of his private life. It's okay for him to talk about his friends, his school day, decathlon with the man during their car rides. But everything else is just weird.

Even having dinner with Happy is weird as Peter doesn't really know what to talk about and Happy is mostly immersed in reading one of his magazine subscriptions.

Peter really wants to press the call button, really really wants to. But he doesn't. Instead he takes a cold shower and gets ready for his date with MJ.

 

MJ chose some kind of action movie – a genre Peter would have never guessed she liked, but he is happy it's not a chick-flick – and he is happy buying them snacks and drinks. MJ being MJ had already paid for the tickets, so Peter couldn't do it like Tony had suggested. Peter felt nervous sitting next to MJ in the dim light of the movie theatre, at least it looked like MJ was a little nervous as well. She wasn't her usual sarcastic self. Peter had complimented her outfit like Pepper had told him to do, not lying but actually telling MJ which part of her outfit he really liked. MJ certainly looked different dressed up in a dark red dress. It was just a normal dress, but usually MJ was more a sweater and jeans kind of person, or so Peter thought. Therefore he had complimented her on how well the dress looked on her and he knew it had hit it off as MJ's cheeks blushed a little. Something she seemed to be embarrassed about.

Now they were sitting quietly next to each other, the movie credits rolling.

Peter shouldn't have worried so much, he had done everything Pepper had told him to do. Had actually practiced some moves the night before. But MJ hadn't wanted to kiss or anything. She had seemed to be perfectly happy to place her hand in Peter's proffered one.

As the lights finally turned on, they were one of the last once to leave. MJ was looking at him and gave his hand a squeeze, before letting go of it and standing up.

“How about some fries?”

Fries have never sounded so go to Peter in all his life.

 

Peter was standing outside, waiting for MJ who had wanted to go to the restroom before they made their way to some takeaway place around the corner. The air was cold, his hands slowly numbing from it as he was typing out a message to Tony. Everything was going well so far and Peter was floating on a cloud of happiness. He didn't even feel his spidersense activating, didn't feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. One moment he was staring at the screen of his phone, the next one everything went black.

 

In the end it had been easy.

Too easy maybe. It made the man question if he had caught the right kid at all or if he had snatched the wrong one from the street. He had been following the kid around for over a week now, noting his schedule, where he went and when. Who was with him. Usually there was a bodyguard following the teenager around, but tonight he hadn't been there. He hadn't even called in to check if it was alright for him to go through with the plan tonight or not. He had just taken his chance when it was presented to him. The kid hadn't even noticed him coming, busy like all kids these days seemed to be with his phone. It had all been too easy. He took a picture of the kid, sent it to his boss. Surely boss would know if it was the right kid or not. If not. . . just another body to rot in the Hudson. Or maybe he could be exchanged for a hefty sum of money? The name Stark was practically glued to the kid's forehead.

Yeah, he wouldn't mind some money for the kid.

 


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

Tony

 

Tony knows something is wrong when Peter doesn't check in with him for three hours straight. Usually by the time his alarm goes off, he has at least six new messages from Peter – not that he was counting. But now there are only two. One of them is from before his date, the other one is from when Peter must have had a moment alone, most likely buying snacks. But no other messages. Nothing. He is about to dial Happy's number, when the man calls him. And that, Tony knows, is definitely not a good sign.

“Happy? What happened?”

“I don't know”, the man's voice sounds frantic, or as frantic as it can sound. “That girl called me and told me that Peter had just vanished. I tried tracing his phone, but it's either turned off or broken.”

Tony is out of bed within a second, struggling into the clothes he had worn the day before.

“Have you called the police?”

Although Tony knows the police will only do something if someone is missing for more than twenty-four hours, it's the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Yes. They took statements and left again.”

“I will be back as soon as I can. Try checking the CCTV footage with F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

Tony hangs up then, quickly sending F.R.I.D.A.Y instructions while gathering his stuff. It doesn't matter if some of his shirts get rumpled, he needs to leave as soon as possible.

“What's going on?”, Pepper emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered.

“Peter went missing. I have to go back.”

“What do you mean he went missing?”

“I don't know! He went missing!”

And that's the problem. Tony doesn't know what happened. The only thing he does know is that he wasn't there when it happened.

 

During the flight Tony worries.

Pepper had to stay in California for the business deal while he opted out. Family emergency. And that is what it is. F.R.I.D.A.Y went through the records of the CCTV and found what Tony was looking for. Peter in front of the cinema, phone in his hand. A black van pulls up, blocking Peter from sight. Not even two minutes later the van leaves and Peter is missing. There was no license plate on the van. Nothing that stood out really, nothing for him to use in his search. He forwarded the footage to the police who at least treat it has abduction now and not a simple case of teenager running away. Maybe it helped that Tony through his name around a bit. Who knows. The only thing that really matters now is finding Peter. No matter what.

At least Tony knows that it can only have been one person who did this. Mac Gargan.

The man's early release had been a bad sign, and everything Tony had been afraid of had come true. He could only hope that the man would let Peter go for money without hurting the teenager. Tony didn't care if he had to give the man all of his money. Just as long as he got Peter back in one piece.

 

Happy picks him up at the airport.

He can see that the man hasn't slept and doubt his blood pressure is way to high now. Tony knows it is not his fault. If someone was to fault it would be him. He shouldn't have Peter let go on that date. Or he should have been there to keep an eye on him at least. Now he would have to deal with the consequences of his decision. He just hoped that Peter was fine. That no one was doing him any harm. He could deal with a kidnapping, with a ransom. But he couldn't deal with Peter being hurt. During the car ride back to the penthouse, Happy told him about Peter being on the news already. So far the police hadn't received any real leads, they had no clue who could have abducted Peter to begin with. The car was untraceable and right now it looked like there was no other footage that showed the entrance of the cinema – where Peter had been waiting –.

Despite not being able to trace the car just yet, Tony just knew what was going on. And he would do everything to get Peter back as soon as possible. If it was a kidnapping than no doubt would he hear very soon from the kidnappers to talk about a ransom. Money didn't matter to Tony, he would give away his whole company if it could help Peter.

 

It was on the news, only a few sentences really, but they made Matt perk up.

“Teenage ward of Tony Stark missing. Only a few hours ago the teenage ward of Tony Stark has gone missing in front of a cinema in Queens. The police is treating it as a case of kidnapping as a black van can be seen pulling up in front of the cinema on CCTV footage. Later today Tony Stark will give a press conference regarding the kidnapping. Furthermore . . .”

Matt tunes the rest of the news out.

Peter was missing, kidnapped if the police could be trusted. Matt had no doubt about it. There was no way the teenager had run away on his own will. Someone must have picked him off the streets, just like the news anchor had said. It was only a matter of time before Stark would call him, Matt was sure about that. The man was most likely frantic by now, trying to mobilize everyone to look out for Peter. Matt sighed. He was stuck at work for at least a few more hours. He would have to wait until later to go out and search for Peter on his own. With or without Stark's knowledge, Matt felt obligated to look for Peter. He was just a boy. Maybe Matt would be able to find him before anything bad could happen to him. Because if he was sure of something than it was the fact that whoever had taken Peter, could have nothing good in store for the teenager.

 


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Tony

 

It had been four days and there was nothing. No news, no hints. Nothing. Tony hadn't slept in what felt like ages. By now Pepper had returned from California, the business deal hadn't gone through. The whole trip had been a waste of time. And on top of it, it was most likely him being away that made the kidnappers snatch Peter of the streets. If only he had been there. . . maybe things would have gone different then. Maybe he could have protected Peter better. He shouldn't have gone to California, shouldn't have left Peter alone.

“Oh Tony, stop worrying about it. There is nothing you can do. You have F.R.I.D.A.Y checking all the CCTV footage available, the police is investigating, there is nothing more you can do.” Pepper's small hands land on Tony's shoulders in a gesture of comfort.

“I could have been there for him”, Tony says irritated, shrugging Pepper's hands off. He stands up and starts pacing the living-room.

“You were there for him. He is a teenager, not a baby that needs constant attention. You couldn't know that something like this could happen to him.”

“I _did_ know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I did know that something could happen, that's why I was so reluctant to leave. I had this bad feeling and now. . . now Peter is . . .”, Tony has to clear his throat. He can't finish the sentence. He just can't.

The police still hasn't found any clues on what exactly had happened or who could have taken Peter. The only thing they had found was his smashed phone in a dumpster a few streets away. At least that had given them the direction in which the truck had most likely gone. Nothing else though. Nothing. There was nothing.

Tony had received a call from Murdock two days ago. The man of course had offered his help. Tony had accepted. He needed all eyes he could get to look out for Peter. He would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to the teenager. He had called the care home to let them know not to tell May what had happened, that Peter was missing. They were only to tell her that they wouldn't be able to make it this weekend. Hopefully they would be able to go there next weekend. It was already Tuesday though and nothing seemed to happen in the investigation.

 

Pepper had dropped of to sleep nearly two hours ago, but Tony felt restless. His body was tired but his mind was still active, going through every little detail of the abduction again and again. It didn't do anything for his sanity. But he needed to do it anyway. Maybe he found something if he looked at the CCTV footage again, maybe he would be able to read the license plate or. . . A sound came from his desk. A deep vibration from one of the drawers. There was only one thing in there that could make that noise.

The phone Steve had given him.

Tony hadn't forgotten it, but it had slipped his mind with everything happening right now. It just hadn't been as important as everything else. He stepped towards the desk and slowly opened the drawer. The phone was lying in there, unused, untouched. He picked it up reverently.

Tony very well remembered the day when Peter had found the phone. Remembered his fear of the teenage somehow breaking it. His last link to Steve. So much time had passed since he last saw him. If Tony was honest with himself he had slowly started to forgive the man. Yes, Steve had known about the death of his parents and hadn't told him, but Tony realised now that the man had only wanted to protect his two friends. He had wanted to protect Bucky from Tony's wrath and Tony from the terrible truth of his parents death. Steve had been caught up in the middle of this terrible secret. Many nights Tony had laid awake and thought about how Steve could live with himself, could live with this secret inside of him, could live with seeing Tony basically every day and never saying a thing. It must have been a burden, a great burden. And that was something Tony could understand now. How hard it was to know something and being unable to say it to the person it concerned. He had learnt that thanks to Peter. The teenager had helped him overcome his grudge towards Steve unknowingly. Although Tony was still massively pissed at Steve, he could now see himself being friends with the man again. It would take time to build up trust again, but he was sure that eventually he could be friends again with Steve. If the accords didn't shred this last string of friendship between the two of them apart.

Tony touched the phone carefully, picking it up and flipping it open.

One new message.

Even after all those months it's battery was still fully charged. The joys of early technology when not every phone was full with apps and permanently glued into people's hands.

His thumb hovers over the button to open the message.

There is only one person who has the number to this phone.

And who is he kidding? The message can only be from Steve. Steve who wouldn't hurt a fly. Taking a deep breath, Tony opens the message.

 

23:46

Do you need my help?

 

Just a single sentence. A simple question. And the answer to that is easy as well: yes.

Before he knows it, Tony has dialed Steve's number, waits with baited breath as the phone rings on the other side.

Time stretches, it feels like minutes, long minutes where Tony holds his breath until finally: salvation.

“Tony?”

God. Fuck. Tony hadn't realised how much he had missed hearing Steve's voice. How much he had missed his friend every frickin day.

“Yes.”

Silence.

But only for a second.

“Tony, is there. . .”

“Yes”, Tony interrupts him rudely. “Yes, I need your help.”

 


	38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Peter

 

It's weird.

He feels like he is on some kind of drugs, his body heavy and his mind clouded. Peter doesn't remember much, but by now he has things figured out. It's not hard figuring out, that you were kidnapped, when you are tied to a chair and watch by bad looking guys in leather jackets 24/7. It's just hard for him to remember how he got here. By the way his head is hurting, he was definitely hit. Hit with so much force most likely that he blacked out and maybe even had a little bit of memory loss. Because Peter can remember fine going to school, but the rest of the day is just blackness. Nothing. And trying to think about it hurts a lot. So he gives up on trying to figure out how exactly he got here and concentrates on going through the tape around his wrists. However, it seems like it is some kind of special tape as no matter how hard he tries to move his wrist it doesn't move at all. Not even a hairsbreadth apart. Nothing. So they either have some high-tech tape or something is wrong with him. And there can't be something wrong with him. He is Spider-Man! He has superpowers! But somehow something is off. Something is _wrong_.

 

He gets pulled out of his doze by a water bucket being emptied into his face. The cold water makes him sputter for a second and he has to blink several times to clear his vision.

The face that greets him means trouble. He remembers the man – back then unblemished – from the ferry.

“Hello Spider-Man”, the man greets him smiling. It's a nasty smile, a smile that can mean no good. Peter swallows. So far his tries to break out of the tape have been unsuccessful. He highly suspects that hey have drugged him with something. He doesn't really remember if they give him anything to drink, but whenever he wakes up, his head is pulsing and his tongue feels dry.

“Did you forget me already? I never expected you to be a lousy teenager. How old are you fourteen?”

Peter wants to reply that he soon will be sixteen, but his tongue is feeling too heavy for him to even try to reply.

“It doesn't matter. When I'm through with you, you will wish that you had never met me. And now look at me. Look at what you have done!” The man brings his face closer, spittle flying on Peter's face.

Peter is still blinking water out of his eyes.

“I said: Look at me!”

A slap across his cheek, it stings far longer than it would have usually. There is definitely something wrong with him.

He can only hope that he will get his powers back soon, so he can escape from wherever he is right now. Tony must be near frantic from worry. Or. . . how long has he been gone for? A few hours? A few days? Is anyone even looking for him?

 

There is a cut on his thigh that is still oozing blood. Only a little, but enough to show Peter that he is not healing. At least he is sure now that they are giving him something. He can remember. Somehow he can remember one of the bad guys coming towards him with a needle. He can't really see his arm as his wrists are bound behind his back, but if the sting is anything to go by then there is definitely a tiny puncture mark from the needle in his arm.

The sedative is only slowly wearing off, making his head stuffy once more and his mouth feel dry. Peter has lost count on how long he has been sitting in the chair. His arms hurt being pulled back like this all the time. His legs are numb. He has wet himself, although he doesn't remember doing so. At least being doused in cold water to wake him up, refreshes him a little. If only a little.

The guy who is supposed to watch him is busy with his phone, not paying any attention to Peter. If only he was at full strength. Then he could easily rip free and actually do something about the whole situation.

 

He doesn't see the point in all of this.

Some times he gets ignored completely by his captors, other times Gargan is there and Peter wakes up bloody without remembering anything. Or at least not much. He doesn't remember the pain for certain, he also doesn't remember if they actually talk during. . . well Peter could call it torture session. It's not like he knows how else to call it. And since he is definitely roughed up, he thinks it fair to actually call it torture. Although he strangely never wakes up in pain. Whatever they give him must be subduing his abilities, but also wipe his memory somewhat.

Peter just hopes that he his not telling them anything about Stark Enterprises or the Avengers. Because he knows stuff, no fifteen year old should know about both. He had sworn to Tony that he wouldn't tell anyone, he hadn't even told Ned. It had been a sign of trust from Tony to tell him some of the stuff going on currently with the Avengers. But also about the stuff he was developing, or hoping to develop, for Stark Industries. Ideas for new prototypes could be sold at a high price whereas secrets about the Avengers could end in a bloodbath.

Hopefully, he hadn't told on Tony. If only he could break free of his restraints.

 

It's December when he sees it on the news. It's everywhere. Worldwide. The headlines differ. But he always gets the same message: Tony has taken in a kid.

He knows Tony and Pepper had an argument about just that subject. He knows that they were on a break back in May. But now? Now it seemed like Tony had adopted some kind of stray. If the news could be believed. And Steve knew that most of the time they couldn't be trusted.

“Tony with a kid. Who could have guessed.”

“He's a good guy and definitely deserves some credit for taking in the boy.”

“Whatever. Let's just hope this doesn't end in disaster.”

Steve knew that Natasha had been sceptical. She had too much free time to think about things these days. About Bruce, Tony, the Accords. If they weren't in hiding, Natasha wouldn't feel as caged as she did.

 

Now it was February and the kid was on the news. Steve had recognised his face immediately. And then there was it: kidnapped. Of course something like that had to come. Of course things had to go wrong. Steve cursed quietly to himself, under his breath, lest someone hear him. He, Sam and Bucky had moved to Brooklyn a few weeks ago. Natasha had gone to visit Clint and Wanda. So far they hadn't been spotted. Using more clothes to disguise themselves. Also growing a beard seemed to help hide his face. It wasn't exactly comfortable to have it, but it was more comfortable than being stuck in some kind of high security prison.

“Knew that would go wrong”, is Sam's only comment on the whole thing.

“It's not Tony's fault.” Even when they are fighting, Steve can't stop but believe in the good Tony possesses.

He leaves their small kitchen which also dubs as a living-room and goes to the bathroom. The only room in their small apartment that actually gives them some level of privacy. He and Sam share the actual living-room as their bedroom, Bucky sleeping alone in the bedroom. It's cramped, and not exactly clean, but it could be worse.

Locking the bathroom door behind himself, Steve goes down to his knees and slides one of the tiles underneath the sink to the side. He didn't want anyone to find the phone. Not that Bucky was a snoopy person to begin with, but Sam some times asked to many questions. Quietly Steve pulls out the hidden phone. There is only one number saved in it. Tony's. It's the last link he has to Tony. Steve still believes in their friendship. He knows he did wrong by not telling Tony about Bucky killing his parents. But Bucky hadn't been Bucky back then, but the Winter Soldier. He had wanted to protect both of his friends and in the end had failed to save his friendship with Tony.

To say that Steve missed Tony was an understatement. They had grown close together, had been more like family than friends. He had ruined everything. One day he would have told Tony about what had happened. He had sworn that to himself. Steve had never wanted the man to find out on his own. Alas he had.

But Steve still believed in their friendship. Still believed that their was a chance for them to eventually make up. Tony could forgive, if he wanted to. His fingers quickly type the short message, hovering over the send button. It's not about whether he should do it. It's more about what kind of reaction he will get from Tony. If he will get one at all.

He presses send.

 

Do you need my help?

 


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

 

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Tony

 

It's the middle of the night, basically the only time that he can meet up with Steve without either of them being seen. Technically Steve is still a fugitive and Tony shouldn't be seen with a fugitive especially not Steve who had been his friend at some point and now. . .Tony cringed inwardly. If he wasn't so desperate to find Peter he wouldn't have replied to the text. He would have ignored it. Would have ignored Steve. Or so he tells himself. In reality Tony doesn't know what he is doing right now. Peter wasn't supposed to be kidnapped. He had tried to avoid it by giving him limitations, these should have kept him safe. But he had failed. Just another thing on his long fail list.

F.R.I.D.A.Y announces that it is nearing three.

Steve should be here soon. He was a punctual man after all.

What was Tony supposed to say when he actually met him again after their fall out? The usual things sounded wrong.

“Tony, it's good to see you.”

He jumps a little at Steve's voice. It has been too long. Although he had not forgotten what is friend sounded like, former friend.

“Steve.”

“It would be pointless to ask how you are feeling right now.”

Clearly, Steve is trying to keep the mood light. Tony doesn't know how he is feeling right now. It's all very confusing for him.

“This is the van that took Peter away.”

He holds out the printed photo for Steve to take.

“So far it showed up on some security cameras but the police was unable to locate it. Wherever the van is, it's also most likely where Peter is.”

“I will keep an eye out.”

Tony knows he should thank the man now, it's after all the polite thing to do. But he can't. Not yet.

“Good.”

“It was really good to see you Tony. Sam sends his greetings.”

 

The rest of the night Tony lies awake and thinks about his meeting with Steve.

His. . . friend? Former friend? Was sporting a beard now. Before Tony would have made fun of the man, endlessly making up jokes about his beard. Now. . .now it was different. They might have taken the first step in the right direction, but in Tony's opinion they were far from being best buddies again. That would take time. A lot of time. And Tony's ability to actually forgive his friend. Bucky, he would never be able to forgive. But Steve. . . Steve was at least not the reason for his parents death. Only time would tell if they were able to become friends again.

 

He catches about an hour of sleep in the very early morning, before getting up again. There is no way anything new has emerged in Peter's case, still Tony checks his mails, his phone and the news. At least the kidnapping is still on the news. He is actually tempted to give out a reward to whoever finds Peter, or could give clues to where he might be. On the one hand it would surely tempt people to take a closer look and report anything that might be helpful. On the other hand there would be a lot of people trying to just get the reward without actual information. It would most likely swamp the police with fake leads, making them even slower than they already were.

Tony makes himself a cup of coffee.

The first few days his body went on autopilot, making breakfast for Peter. But there was no Peter. He had stared at the toast, the pancakes until they had grown cold. There was a Peter-sized hole in his chest that become ever more evident with every minute ticking by.

Tony hoped to whatever God was out there that the teenager would be fine and soon be returned to him. In one piece.

Matt sits and listens.

He's not thinking about work overly much these days. Instead he listens. Whenever he has the chance, he listens intently for anything. At night he spends hours wandering the streets of first Hell's Kitchen and then other districts. He moves through Manhattan, Queens and eventually Brooklyn. And there one night in Brooklyn he hears a conversation between two men. One of them no doubt the now war-criminal Steve Rogers, the other voice he cannot place, but it's a friendly conversation. Matt stows the information away in his mind, he might need it one day. But for now he leaves the man be. In his eyes Rogers made the right decision. He himself would have never signed the Accords. He leaves Brooklyn for the night, no doubt Rogers will keep an eye out there for Peter.

One night later he hears Rogers voice again. This time in Manhattan. It's him and Stark. The conversation is short, if one could call it that at all. Only a few sentences are muttered between the two. Then they part ways and Matt is left to wonder how they were able to meet up. Wasn't there some kind of fight going on between them? It doesn't matter. As long as there a people looking out for Peter, he doesn't care who it is. Matt just hopes that someone will eventually find the teenager. So far there has been no talk of ransom, the kidnappers staying eerily silent. Certainly, the whole kidnapping was about money. There was no way anyone could hold a grudge against a good kid like Peter. Except if they knew that Peter was actually Spider-Man. That would open up a whole new can of worms.

Steve didn't expect there to be any kind of lead. But there it was.

He had met with Tony once more who had given him a safe laptop to use for his search. Of course Tony could just let F.R.I.D.A.Y search for him while he met up with the police and gave statements to the media, but as a human Steve had a different thought process than the AI.

And that had been the thing to actually help him find the lead. Whereas F.R.I.D.A.Y had checked security footage of New York's streets, Steve had looked at parking spots, old factories and abandoned buildings. There he had spotted a black van driving through the footage. It was only short but at least Steve now knew in which general area Peter could be. If it was the same van that is. Steve hoped to God it was.

 

 


	40. Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

Tony

 

Of course it would be like this. Steve would come to his rescue. It was the man's help that had brought him here today. Tony stood in front of an abandoned building. He had only called the police now, letting them know that he knew where Peter was and to send for back-up and just in case an ambulance. For now Tony would be going in alone. He hadn't been able to find any security cameras on the property so he felt safe in simply approaching the rundown factory. He had part of his Ironman suit on already, certain that it would be needed. There was no way Peter's kidnappers weren't wearing weapons.

Since it was the middle of the day, Steve couldn't be here to help him. Nor could Murdock for that matter. Not that Tony wanted the man to be here. Surely Tony could handle these thugs on his own without any help. He hadn't told Happy or Pepper where he was going.

Taking a deep breath, Tony raised one of his blasters and shot off the rusting metal door in front of him.

This was how you announced your presence.

 

At first the factory looked completely deserted, but there were subtly traces of someone being there. The light didn't work, but enough daylight was coming through old broken windows to let Tony see. The floor was dirty and covered by dust. Alas in some place one could subtly see that the dust wasn't as thick. There were no footprints, they had been clever enough to cover them up. Not too stupid then, Tony thought and made his way through the factory. He didn't even try to be quiet, the only way he could have accomplished that would have been for him to actually fly inside and he didn't see the need for that. Let them be afraid, he thought. Certainly they must have expected Ironman showing up sooner rather than later.

 

Stomping his way through the empty factory, he blasted holes through doors and walls. He didn't receive any heat signals coming from anywhere on this level. So instead he was looking for hidden trapdoors or maybe even a staircase that led up to one of the offices. Scanning the higher levels he could find no heat signature there either. Which could only mean that their was a hidden basement. He tried scanning the floor, but couldn't really find anything. Maybe it was very deep? To deep for his sensors?

But there!

Gotcha, Tony thought as he rose above the ground, blasting at a point a few meters away from him.

Had he been standing on the ground while firing, he would have felt the earth shaking beneath his feet. No doubt the blast would have finally alerted them to his presence. As soon as the smoke had vanished, Tony could see that his one blast hadn't been good enough for the steel trapdoor. He send off another blast, the loud so noise that he was thankful for the installed noise cancellation in his helmet. At least this time it didn't look like he would need to fire off another blast. The trapdoor was completely incinerated, revealing a brightly lid staircase. Tony touched the ground and made his way towards the staircase. No heat signature readings coming his way.

Too bad, he thought as he made his way downstairs.

 

Two dead goons later, Tony felt like he was no closer to finding Peter than he had been before. Sure, he got a reading on various heat signatures, but most of them were too big to be Peter. And they were moving around. If they were holding Peter hostage, no doubt he would be tied down in a chair somewhere. But so far, Tony didn't register anyone that fit this description.

Leisurely I walked down the corridor, blasting off anyone who tried coming his way. These guys were not that well organised, he thought, as they tried shooting at him with normal weapons. You needed special made weapons to even make a dent in the Ironman suit.

A few blasts later and Tony thought he might actually be making progress in finding Peter. His scanners showed him that there wasn't much layout left over for him to go through. He could pick up a few heat signatures coming towards him once again which were quickly taken care of. And then, finally, a heat signature that could be Peter.

Tony broke out into a jog, running towards what he presumed to be Peter.

Only to nearly run into the teen as he was rounding a corner.

His gaze flitted over the teenager's body, thinner than before, hurt. Not a word escapes out of Peter's mouth as he crumbles to the ground at Tony's feet. A gunshot whips through the air. Before he can think about it, Tony blasts the guy off his feet. He wants nothing more than to take care of Peter right now, to get him out of here and to safety. If his calculations were correct the police should be here within the next five minutes. But there is two more heat signatures his scanners can read and he has no doubt that one of them is Gargan.

 

A guy in shabby black clothes is lying on the ground, eyes closed, a bleeding wound on his forehead. And then there is Gargan. As if he was waiting for Tony to show up.

“Do you like beating up teenagers?”, is the first thing that escapes Tony's mouth.

The man only throws him a smile. There is a scar running down one side of his face now and he is holding his arm in a weird position. Tony is so ready to simply blast the man off his feet, to incinerate him. He is holding back though. He wants justice for what Gargan has done to Peter. Lifting his hand, Tony is about to let go of a simple blast, when Gargan raises his own weapon. It doesn't look like much really. It's just a big gun, or so Tony thinks.

Within the blink of an eye, the gun is up, pointing at Tony and then fired. There is not much time for him to dive to the side. Not that Tony is used to doing that in his suit. Usually bullets don't do shit to him. But this one, this one is different. It hits the Ironman suit and doesn't ping off like normal bullets usually do. It is some kind of high tech bullet, the point were it is embedded in the suit slowly starts to smoke.

“Not so sassy anymore”, Gargan laughs at him, raising his gun once again. This time Tony sees the shot coming and moves out of the way. His suit is still steaming and F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice tells him that the bullet is actually moving through his suit, coming ever closer to his human body. Tony realises he doesn't have much time to get rid off the man and to get out of his suit if he wants to survive this unscathed.

Tony tries one of his milder blasts. Gargan shoots.

They duck, they shoot, completely destroying the room they are in. But it doesn't matter. As long as Tony can get Gargan subdued for the police to arrest him.

How Gargan is still standing after ten minutes is a complete mystery to him. One last shot, Tony tells himself turning his blasts on higher.

They fire at the same time, Gargan's bullet hitting Tony's blast. There is a loud boom, a bright light.

Tony comes to a heartbeat later. The room is completely destroyed now, plaster crumbling down fro the ceiling. Gargan is lying in one corner, head lolled to his chest. His face is bloody, but his scans show him that he is still alive. Tony scrambles to his feet, slowly approaching the slumped figure. The high tech gun is lying to far away for the man to reach it, should he only fake his state of unconsciousness.

Gently nudging him Tony waits for any reaction, but doesn't get one.

“Don't mess with me asshole”, he tells the slumped figure, before getting rid of his still smoking Ironman suit and jogging out into the hallway where Peter is still lying.

 

“Hey Peter, hang in there.”

“Tony”, the teenager mumbles in reply.

“Yeah kiddo. I'm gonna get you to a hospital real soon and everything will be alright, okay?”

There is no reply from Peter who's head has lolled back. Tony gently shakes him to wake him up. Only now does he have time to take a closer look at Peter's injuries. There is bruises, crusted blood and some superficial wounds that seemed to heal slowly. Which makes no sense at all. Peter's powers should have taken care of these wounds. Why were there not healing. Gently, he pats at Peter's arms, looking for injection spots. Maybe they had given him something to keep him down? Peter was strong. Hell, the kid had stopped a car once. There was no way Peter couldn't have fought his way out of his restraints. Speaking of restraints, his wrists were badly bruised, even chafed in some places. And then Tony finds the spot were Peter must have been injected with something. His whole inner arm is a dark bruise as well, but still the tiny puncture wounds are easily spotted. There is no needle in there now, only a bit of dried blood. Thank God Peter hadn't bled out when the needle had been pulled out. There was one especially nasty looking puncture which looked like the needle had been ripped out accidentally.

Peter lets out a little moan, Tony's eyes immediately go to the teenager's beaten up face.

“You're alright there Peter. Everything is alright now.”

And he believed it.

 


	41. Chapter Forty-One

 

Chapter Forty-One

Peter

 

The taste of blood was on his tongue, coppery.

Peter tried spitting it out, but it wouldn't go. He had lost all feelings for time. Was it light outside? Or was it dark? Was it Monday or Tuesday? There was no way for him to tell. By now his legs were cramped and his arms hurting. Sometimes when he woke up from his drug induced sleep, he felt like he had been moved around. It made sense that they would do that. They didn't want his limbs to die of from disuse. Even if Peter didn't see the point of keeping him alive. It would have made more sense to ask for a ransom for him. But that hadn't happened, at least not that he knew off. If they wanted to kill him, they could have done so easily. So why the delay? Why the torture? Because there certainly was torture, even if Peter couldn't really remember any of it. He was always tired and sluggish, often fell asleep. When he woke up, his brain feeling as if it was made out of cotton candy, he never remembered much. But there were the bruises and cuts and the dried blood that he could see on his body.

And now there was the dried blood in his mouth.

So he must have been hit at some point earlier.

The guy watching him was once again busy with his phone. He must be doing something really important to be so relaxed about there whole situation. Or maybe he didn't realise that Peter was awake? It was not like he was paying any attention to him. Once again Peter cursed himself for being so out of it. And his body didn't feel the greatest after all the beatings he was receiving. He could only hope that Tony would find him soon.

 

There was a loud shattering boom. The whole room shook, plaster falling from the ceiling. Finally the guy looked up from his phone.

“What the. . . ?”

Another boom sounded, this time the earth quaked. Peter overbalanced on his chair and fell to the ground sideways. His head hurt a little from where he had hit it on the ground, but he didn't mind so much. Because now his restraints had moved, only slightly, but enough for him to wiggle his hands around. His watchdog had pocketed his phone by now, and stood up, ready it seemed to have a look into the hallway and see what was going on. As soon as the man's back was turned, Peter started working on his restraints.

“Hey you know what's going on there?”

“Nah man, I'm gonna have a look now. Boss is most likely coming to you. Doesn't want anything happening to the kid, ya' know?”

Peter struggles free of his restraints, the wrist raw and pulsing with pain. Before he can think about it, he jumps up, adrenaline slowly pumping through his veins. The phone guy is just about to turn around, when Peter rams into him. They both stumble and tumble to the floor. It is unlike him to do anything like this, but Peter is desperate to finally get away from whatever hellhole he is in. As they are both lying on the floor, the guy tries swinging at Peter, they roll around for some time. Loud noises coming from the hallway. The floor rattling underneath them. Another roll, a uncoordinated punch from Peter and the man lies still on the ground, blood flowing freely from a cut on his forehead. Peter pants hard, trying to catch his breath. Now that the adrenaline is flowing through him, his body feels floaty, aches less. He staggers to his feet and then runs.

The noise is so much louder in the corridor, but he doesn't dare stop. Who knows what is making the noise. It could be good for him, someone who rescues him maybe. Or it could be someone bad. Someone even worse than his captor.

Peter stumbles around a corner, his legs growing weaker. Something is definitely wrong with his body. Head turned he literally runs into Tony, or more like Ironman. Then his legs give out. He sees Tony's face above him, can't quite believe his eyes, before everything turns black.

 

 

He faintly remembers the ride in the ambulance. It was bumpy and his body ached. That is about all he can remember. And Tony. He remembers Tony's face, anxiously hovering over him.

The next time he wakes up, he is in the hospital, hooked up to all kinds of machines. Just like he expected. His head feels a little woozy, his body heavy. No doubt they have put some sorts of medication into him.

“Oh Peter”, it's not Tony sitting at his bedside but Pepper. There is no word for him to describe how happy he feels when he sees her pretty face.

“Hey”, his voice sounds a little slurred.

“You will be alright now. Don't worry. Let me go and get Tony.” She pats his hand softly, before he can reply, she has left the room.

Peter moves his body a little, trying to see where he is hooked up. Even that small movement, makes him a little queasy. Instead of trying to get a look at his body, I lies still, waiting for Pepper to come back with Tony. The minutes stretch agonizingly.

He can feel himself dropping off again, eyelids heavy, vision turning dark around the edges.

 

 

“Are you with me now Peter?”

Peter thinks he mumbles something in reply, but he is till too far away for anything to get through. It's like a small voice is calling for him, beckoning him to wake up and open his eyes.

“He's been asleep for a long time, surely that can't be normal.”

“He's just sleeping off the drug they put into his system. It will take his body a few weeks to get rid of it. Don't worry this is quite normal and was to be expected.”

 

 

Peter dreams that he is riding in the car with Tony. He doesn't know where they are going, only that they are moving in one of the man's fancy cars. A smooth ride, rock music blaring. No, he is not dreaming. There is music playing.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. A white ceiling greets him. His body doesn't feel as heavy as it used to, there is no machines beeping around him. In fact it doesn't look like he is in the hospital any longer.

“Hello Peter. Should I alert someone?” F.R.I.D.A.Y's gentle voice washes over him.

Home.

He is home.

Peter cannot help but let a sob escape his throat.

Tony finds him like that, crying softly into his pillow.

“It's alright buddy. Everything's alright now.” The man pats him on the back, murmuring comforting nonsense until Peter is done with his outburst and calm.

“What h-happened?”

“You want the whole story, or the short version?” Tony looks disheveled, face pale as if he has spend many a sleepless night. Which he most likely did.

“Short.”

“You got kidnapped, but I think you will remember that part. You will have to fill me in on what actually happened. The police will want your statement for that as well. Anyways, I got you out and you spend a few days in the hospital, before I brought you here. Since whatever drug they had given you, was finally out of your system and your healing powers slowly started kicking in, there was no way you could stay at the hospital any longer.”

“What about Aunt May?” Peter doesn't really care about himself. For him it is more important to know that Aunt May is doing well.

“Don't worry about her. After I got you back, I told her the whole story of what had happened. As soon as your up for it, we will drive down so you can visit her.”

Peter nods, although he would like to see his aunt now, it makes more sense to wait a little longer. Just in case there are any bruises or scratches left on him, he doesn't want to scare his aunt after all.

“So for now, all you have to do is sleep and get better.”

Tony squeezes his shoulder lightly, as if he is afraid to put too much power behind it. “Which you should be doing now.”

“Okay”, Peter replies softly, burrowing under his blanket. His blanket, that smells like him and home and fresh laundry.

 

 

 

 


	42. Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Two

Peter

 

“Hey Aunt May.”

“P-Peter!”

Peter bows down to give his aunt a hug an a kiss on the cheek.

In the end it took his body a good two weeks to finally get rid of the drug that had been pumped into him. He was confined to his bed for three weeks by a worried Tony and was only now allowed to visit his aunt. On Monday Peter will be back in school after missing over a month of it. There is a massive homework pile in his room that doesn't seem to get any smaller no matter how many hours he works on it.

At least now he will have the weekend off before having to do anything school related again.

Aunt May seems happy to see him. Since the last time he has seen her, she has filled out, looking more like she used to before the accident. She is not as pale anymore, the first rays of sunshine making her wander outside in the care home's garden. Her walks have made her stronger as well. The wheelchair is history now and most of the time she only uses one crutch to get somewhere. Now there is only her speech that is still patchy, but she is getting better at it. Or so Peter feels. Tony is away for his usual chat with her doctors, so Peter will most likely know more about that later. And most importantly if there is a chance of May coming home any time soon.

“I-I was worri-ied.”

Peter sits down in the chair opposite his aunt, and throws her a smile, hoping that it will make her worry less.

“Everything's good now! Don't worry about me!” He knew it was pointless to tell the adults around him not to worry, but he still tried to make her feel better. Even when he had wanted to visit her before, Tony had been right in making him stay home so May wouldn't have to see his bruises.

They fell into an easy chat, Tony joining them once he was done talking to May's doctors.

 

There had been a discussion.

A very long discussion which involved slamming of doors and raised voices. But in the end Peter had won. Instead of returning to half days at school, like Tony had wanted, he was back full time. He was fully healed, there was no more need for him to be coddled. And somehow, after their argument, something seemed to have clicked with Tony. The man seemed to have realised that Peter was fifteen and not a small kid anymore.

So here he was, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly, swallowing hard on being faced with the school building that seemed to loom in front of him. Peter could feel Happy still waiting behind him, clearly the man was paranoid something would happen to Peter if he let him out of his sight even once.

Something was holding Peter back. His legs felt leaden, after weeks of not being able to go to school, of not being able to learn and take quizzes, Peter had been eager to return to school. But now. . . now his legs didn't want to move.

“Hey Peter!”

Hearing Ned's friendly voice was all Peter needed to finally take a step forward, another step toward normalcy.

 

“Are you sure it's okay? I don't want to intrude. . . “

“Yeah, don't worry about it. I texted Tony before inviting you.” That he hadn't received a reply and the man hadn't read his message, Peter left unsaid. He had been itching to spend some time alone with MJ. After their disastrous first date, he had wanted to spend more time with her, although his shyness kept him from asking her out immediately on his first day back at school. He had spent nights thinking about how he could ask her to hang out at the penthouse. And in the end he had simply asked. Peter knew that MJ didn't like making a big deal out of things, hell, Peter didn't like making a big thing out of things. Unlike Tony.

Now Peter was sat in his bedroom, the door slightly ajar, on his desk chair while MJ was exploring his room. The usually reserved girl became curious upon being in a boy's room. It was a first for both of them.

“You don't really have much stuff, do you?” It was meant as a simple comment, and if she had made it last year, Peter would have been hurt by it. But now he took it as it was intended.

“Most of my stuff is still in the apartment in Brooklyn, I just took some of the basics. Tony keeps trying to push stuff at me, but I don't need it. It's not like I don't have enough. You know what I mean?”

MJ nodded while picking up one of his Lego Starwars sets, built one afternoon with Ned.

“So you still got the apartment?”

“Yeah. The doctors said Aunt May might be ready to go home in the summer, so I will be moving back there then.”

“Peter, that's great news! Since when do you know?”

They had talked over the phone sometimes, in the evening mostly, but the moment had never felt right to Peter to announce the come back of his aunt.

“Since last weekend, she is much better now, so the doctors are positive in her coming home soon.”

Before MJ can say anything, a knock interrupts them, the door opening before Peter can say anything.

“I heard voices, I didn't know you had a visitor.” Tony's hair is tousled, lines deep in his face. No doubt his workday had been stressful.

“Hey Mr Stark”, MJ chirps, “I'm MJ, it's nice to meet you.”

MJ holds out her hand for Tony to shake, very adult-like, Peter notes.

Tony shakes her outstretched hand with a raised eyebrow.

“Nice to meet you too. Are you staying for dinner?”

“That would be nice.”

“I will leave you to it then. Thai like always?”

“Sounds good”, Peter replies, hoping that Tony will leave the two of them alone now.

Tony closes the door, leaving it slightly open, just like Peter had done.

“I thought it was okay for me to come over?”, MJ throws him a look.

“I texted him and he didn't reply, so I figured it was fine.”

“Oh, Peter. You are hopeless.” MJ gives him one of her smiles, plopping down onto his bed. A strand of her hair gets loose, curling into her face. Peter's stomach does a weird flip.

 

That night they have dinner together for the first time, Tony, Peter and MJ. It is the first of many dinners to follow in the coming months. And then in the late summer, it is May, Peter and MJ enjoying dinner together in a small Brooklyn apartment, sometimes joined by an overworked Tony, who always relaxes in their presence.

 

 

The End

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it.  
> I'm sorry for taking so long, but university assessments got in my way.  
> Thanks to Lidoshka for the many comments, they have made my day!


End file.
